Becoming the Fuhrer
by Chaotic Lullaby
Summary: The Parliament decides to choose a new Fuhrer, but we all know who it's going to be. Royai, EdWin, AlRose, HavocRoss, contains spoilers for the movie. And, I like going against the movie ending. And I screw up chapters. XD
1. The Panicky Parliament

Chapter 1

"But they were surprise attacks in Central! How were we supposed to know that men in armor would fall from the sky and strange flying machines would start…flying around the skies and terrorizing everyone…?"

"Calm down, sir. What we need is a – "

"What we need are more volunteers to help us rebuild Central Amestris!"

"What we need are more military officers to make sure a crime of this magnitude never taints our state again!"

"What we need is more law and order! I call a dictatorship!"

"WAIT!"

Everyone in the Amestris Parliament meeting paused and stared at the man who had told the first speaker to calm down. This man shuddered under the weight of so many people watching him, and ran a hand nervously through his mop of dark blond hair, a couple of loose bangs getting into one of his glittering blue eyes. He wanted nothing less than to sink into his seat and disappear from the meeting, but of course, he had to stand and be recognized as the one Parliament member with the big mouth.

"Er…?"

"Well, speak up, Mr. Devon Quier!"

"Umm…you see…that attack in Central…it just goes to show that…"

"You mean THOSE attacks," piped up a middle-aged man up front, adjusting his toupee and looking around furtively to see if anyone noticed the bald spot he was desperately trying to conceal. "Assault on the headquarters, then on the civilians…"

Devon Quier flapped his hands nervously and walked shakily towards the platform. As he stood there, all Parliament eyes on him, he said slowly but clearly, "We need more than just volunteers, or officers, or new laws…"

"What we need is a leader."

The chaotic Parliament, at first, fell silent. Everything was so still that everyone heard a pen drop.

"Nonsense!" exploded the man with the toupee. "We've been running things smoothly even after the disappearance of Fuhrer King Bradley. We've been doing it on our own just fine; why start the whole Fuhrer tradition again? Why fix something that isn't busted?"

"Actually, Amestris is…well, busted, to some extent," put in the man who had been raving about the surprise attacks in Central in the first place. "Sure, maybe the first two years were fine…and then, boom, suits of armor start falling out of the sky! Maybe if we pray harder, it would be money!"

"Who says we can't fix it, Gideon? Are you saying we are incompetent state leaders, is that it?"

"N – no, Mr. Snapfuse, sir, just saying – "

Mr. Snapfuse, usually just known as Snapfuse, rose out of his seat abruptly. "Repairs and renovation are going on in Central as we speak! So far, nobody has reported any other abnormalities or attacks or anything that may interfere with the rebuilding of Central Amestris! We don't need another Fuhrer Bradley, even though I have to admit, he ran the country well, and it was a shame to suddenly lose him…"

"Actually, there were a lot of armed assaults during his rule, I noticed," said Devon, waving his arms to remind everyone that he was still there, on the platform. But right now, nobody seemed to care. "But look at us! Ever since that incident, we've been running around like ants fleeing from a crushing foot! We need someone to lead us, someone who can hold us all down and help us decide when we're hopelessly divided in opinion and view! We need someone who can represent us in public, become a living emblem of hope and justice, and watch over us like a heaven-sent archangel!"

"He's raving!" complained Snapfuse to anyone who bothered to listen to him. Apparently nobody bothered to listen to anyone but themselves.

"Even if we would need a leader," a woman's pure soprano rang out, "who would it be? Would we still use the same criteria that brought Bradley into power?"

"No way, don't look at me!" said Devon, shaking his head. "I don't fancy talking about politics in front of a huge audience and begging them to obey our laws."

To this the woman replied, "You are now. And who said anything about choosing you? Like I said, there are specific criteria to be followed. Then we draw up a list of final candidates…"

"What is with all this twaddle about criteria for a leader?" demanded Snapfuse.

"If you don't mind my saying so, sir, you're being quite the irony," said Gideon lightly. "You don't want another leader, and yet you sympathize with Bradley's supporters."

"What I mean is that even though he was good, he disappeared, and even without him, we've been getting by just fine ever since!"

"You're not making any sense," said another woman curtly, tossing her long black curls. "I say we choose a leader. If we cannot find even a single eligible candidate in seventy-two hours, then we call the whole thing off. If there's someone out there who would actually turn out to be a competent potential leader, then why leave him – or her – to rot out there when he or she could be moving this country forward?"

Once again, the Parliament was quiet. Gideon twisted around in his chair and tried to discreetly pick his nose. Snapfuse kept on glancing up at his toupee. Devon rocked back and forth on his heels, whistling his daughter's first musical composition. The two women attempted to communicate over everyone else's heads via hand signals.

"I guess…we take a vote? All in favor of choosing the next Fuhrer?" whispered Devon. But even though his voice was so soft, the silence made it echo throughout the room.

Hands went up, including those of the two women, Gideon, and Devon. Snapfuse and a few others kept theirs down, but two-thirds of the gathered party was all for choosing King Bradley's successor.

"So…where do we find these candidates?" asked Devon sheepishly. "If we start at the military…"

The curly-haired woman shook her head as she stood up. "No. We will not let the military take over as government – again. The next Fuhrer will not only be commander-in-chief of the military, but also the leader of the Parliament. He or she will be the mediator between Parliament and State Military, and keep ties…well, tied. And because it was your idea in a way, Devon, you will be in charge of seeing if we can actually dig up some people from the military. Who knows?"

---

"So that's why I'm here at Eastern Headquarters, General Grumman. Perhaps you would be interested in becoming the leader of the Parliament – the Fuhrer, also known as the president of Amestris? You see, I have heard of your achievements both as a leader and a soldier, and I can have your name put on the list of candidates which we will vote upon – "

"No. Mr. Quier, as much as I am flattered by your determination to nominate me, I'm afraid I'm too old for such a position," said the General, shaking his head. "In fact, I might retire soon…I think I've done enough for this country as it is."

The corners of Devon's mouth turned down. "But, sir…then, do you have any recommendations? Anyone fit for the position? Are you sure you don't have any intentions of – "

Grumman shook his head adamantly. "I'm sure. However…there is one military officer, a brigadier general, whom you might want to consider. He is a very capable leader, and after he demoted himself after the disappearance of Bradley, we reinstated him as a general not too long ago, and he might just be up for a promotion to major general for his actions in the assault on Central. Of course, if you do choose him as your leader, then he'll have another big promotion. Plus, I think he has big plans for this country."

As he rattled off his reasons for choosing this particular military officer, Devon's eyes grew wider and wider with every word. But Grumman wasn't done yet.

"He is also a State Alchemist, a very able fighter. And from what I hear, he has quite a large impact on his followers. Remember his name – Brigadier General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist."

Somehow, Devon knew that his interviewee would suggest Mustang. The guy did indeed have a lot of achievements under his belt, and his alchemy was a force to be reckoned with – not just his alchemy, actually.

"Well…in that case, all we need are his credentials and documents. And, we'll have to notify him about how he's being considered as the next Fuhrer of Amestris."

"Just…try not to get his hopes too high up," commented Grumman, smiling. "You know how Mustang likes power. Of course, if that was all he wanted, he wouldn't be in the military for long. Besides, you do have other candidates to consider, right? But truthfully, it is only Mustang I see serving as Fuhrer in the military. Perhaps my granddaughter, Riza Hawkeye, but she isn't exactly that kind of officer. Well, I wish you luck in your endeavors, Mr. Quier."

"I wish myself luck too," admitted Devon, scratching the back of his neck.

Grumman rested a hand on one of the young Parliament member's shoulders. "I can imagine that deciding who will be Bradley's successor can be a hard job. But I have confidence in the Parliament that they will find someone truly right for the position."

"In that case…that'll be all, sir," said Devon, bowing as he stood up and made his way out of the old general's office.

As the door closed behind Devon Quier, General Grumman leaned back in his seat.

"I know you'll be president, Mustang," he mused to himself. "I can't deny it. This could be your time to shine."


	2. Generally Speaking, It's Love

Chapter 2

Central Headquarters was bustling that afternoon, full of activity as soldiers and officers rushed to complete paperwork, answer telephones, and basically just make sure the HQ was still running despite what had transpired several days ago.

"It's great that General Grumman persuaded 'Corporal' Mustang to get his nice shiny accoutrements back and become a Brigadier General again. Heck, he's actually up for a promotion again – Major General Mustang. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think, Havoc?"

"Aww, I was actually looking forward to boss – oww! Well, I sure as heck still outrank you, Warrant Officer Falman!"

Vato Falman grinned, suddenly steeling himself so he was standing straighter than a ramrod, but still shaking with suppressed mirth. "Yes, sir, _Lieutenant _Havoc, sir! What can I do for you, sir? Perhaps shine your shoes with my spit and handkerchief, sir?"

Lieutenant Jean Havoc, now First Lieutenant, couldn't help but smile as well. "Maybe later. But I have no intention of getting your drool all over my boots. Anyhow, have you finished your report on the attempted destruction of Central and all that crap?"

Falman shrugged. "Sort of…hey, has Mustang been let out of the hospital yet?"

"Dunno. Haven't had any word from Hawkeye – make that Major Hawkeye. But she says he's awake, he can talk longer – yup, he'll get back to bossing us around in no time. And I thought for once I could have fun…"

Another jab from Falman kept Havoc from finishing his sentence.

---

"This is it, Dewey. Amestris Hospital. My granddaughter says he should be well enough to receive the news. Pull up over there – that parking space looks nice, and it's near the entrance, too."

General Grumman stepped out of the long black car, flanked by two sergeants and his chauffeur, Private Dewey. A few people outside the hospital started whispering excitedly as Grumman walked up the steps and entered the double doors, watched closely by three pairs of eyes. Some of the passers-by even saluted, but the old general just laughed and saluted back as he walked to the nurses' station.

"Good afternoon, I'm here to see Brigadier General Roy Mustang. Official business, I might add," he said, smiling warmly at the young brunette piling up a few medical books.

"You're…the General, right?" asked the nurse, trying to return the smile nervously, but she was obviously intimidated by the fact that a general and three soldiers were now standing before her. "Room one-four-two, sir. Down that corridor, up the first staircase you see. Then turn left, straight ahead." She pointed it out for them with a shaky finger.

"Thank you very much…Rosette," said Grumman as he read her nametag. He made a little bow before her and made her blush. The sergeant on his left winked at the nurse, but she had already gone back to work stacking books. Dewey, despite being of lower rank, kicked the sergeant's heel discreetly before they made their way up the stairs.

As they reached the second floor, it was already pretty obvious which room Roy was in – two master sergeants, including Kain Fuery, were standing guard on either side of the door that was marked '142'.

A couple or so days ago, Roy Mustang was found lying unconscious on the scorched floor of his bedroom, his hands and arms burned. Nobody but Riza Hawkeye knew that he was trying to destroy the Gate of Alchemy, to make sure anything on the other side stayed there.

Unfortunately, as Edward and Alphonse Elric had also tried the same thing in the other world beyond the Gate, their plans backfired. The two brothers were suddenly sent back into Amestris, their memories wiped clean of anything about the other side and their plot to obliterate the Gate, and Al's memories of being a soul in a suit of armor and real age were restored. Roy would never remember that he tried to destroy the Gate, no matter how many times Riza would remind him, and fainted from the alchemic reactions that brought the Elrics back.

For three days, Roy was unconscious, yet still alive.

Now, as Fuery and his comrade saluted Grumman and admitted him and his party in, the General could see that the Flame Alchemist was looking better – the color was back in his face, and he was laughing with a delighted Riza Hawkeye. She wasn't dressed in the usual military regalia – she was wearing a white button-down blouse, a navy knee-length skirt, and midnight two-inch heeled sandals. At the sight of Grumman, she stood up and saluted. Roy did the same while lying in bed, propped up by several pillows.

"It is a pleasure to see that you're awake and well, Brigadier General," said Grumman as he received a kiss on the cheek from his granddaughter.

"It is also a pleasure to see you again, General Grumman," replied Roy. His slightly crooked smile, not to mention the eye patch that covered his left eye, gave him the look of a surviving war hero – which he technically was. "What brings you here?"

"General Mustang will probably be out of the hospital tomorrow," said Riza. Only Grumman saw how excited she was to say it, but her grandfather decided to keep his mouth shut about it. There were more important things to discuss than Riza's feelings for her superior.

He smiled. "That's very good. I expect that you won't get back to work right away, Mustang? Don't want to get carted back in here, do you?"

Riza and Roy laughed. Even Dewey and the sergeants stifled chuckles as they flanked Grumman.

"If it weren't for Hawkeye, sir, I would be bored to death," said Roy, grinning at her. The major wondered if she was blushing, as she felt her cheeks burn. "So, what news do you bring us, General?"

"Well…I've talked to the Parliament – I mean, a member of the Parliament – and they've been talking about looking for a president since the attacks on Central."

"You would be perfect for the job, Grandfather," said Riza, nodding. "Did they choose you?"

Grumman shook his head. "No…I declined his suggestion. However, I did recommend someone else for the position. Someone younger, fitter, and stronger, and capable of running Amestris fairly yet firmly. To make the long story short, Mustang, I have given your name and credentials to Mr. Devon Quier of the Parliament. They will be keeping in touch with you when the Parliament approves you as a candidate for Fuhrer.

"Of course, I am confident that they'll choose you. I can't think of another, not even from the Parliament itself, who would be more qualified to run the country."

Neither Roy nor Riza spoke. They just stared at their superior as though he had sprouted an extra head.

"You…you…" the two of them stuttered.

"Yes, me," said Grumman lightly. "And with that, I bid you good-bye, and I hope to see you two in Central again soon. As for that promotion, Mustang, well…starting tomorrow, you will add another star to your badge, Major General. I have to get back to work now. Take care of him, Riza. I know you always have.

"And you always will," he added softly, winking at her. After a kiss and a hug from his granddaughter, and a salute to Roy, Grumman and his bodyguards were gone, leaving Roy and Riza alone in the room once again.

At first, the two of them were silent. Roy looked down on his blankets, thinking of that fateful day when he went to his house to do something…something he couldn't put his finger on (and never will), and then, he woke up in the hospital to learn that he had been asleep for three days, and his arms and hands were heavily bandaged.

And during those three days, Major Riza Hawkeye almost never left his room. She kept in touch with the rest of Central Headquarters via phone, sometimes by messenger, but mostly watched the unconscious Roy.

After telling her what he was about to do, he didn't say much anymore…not until they got to his house. And it was there that Roy said a few choice words in case he would not make it out alive…just a few words that forever changed the course of their lives…

"I love you."

Both Riza and Roy remembered it vividly; the general saying those three words to her, clasping her hands, looking deep into her reddish-brown eyes, looking as though he was marching off to his execution. Then he had leaned in and kissed her, and before she knew it, they were in each other's arms, never wanting to let go. Even though he had forgotten what was that he had wanted to do that was so dangerous that it had pushed him to confess his true feelings for Riza straightaway, he would never forget that kiss, and those words he said to her.

Now, in the hospital room, he was looking at Riza again, sitting primly in the armchair. He had survived the ordeal, but his life, or her life, would never be the same again, not after that.

"H – Hawkeye…"

"No, call me Riza," she said softly. "I mean, when we're alone together. It seems so…awkward now…when we call each other by our last names or by our ranks…"

"I know," was the reply. "But I don't care. I still love you. I really do…Riza."

"You're going to be Fuhrer. I know it. My grandfather also knows it. After all these years…in fact, you might actually be the youngest Fuhrer in history…Roy."

She stood up and sat down instead on his bed. "Congratulations," she whispered, opening her arms and wrapping them around him.

"I'm not even Fuhrer yet," said Roy with a laugh. "Who knows…the Parliament might actually find someone…more qualified, a better pick…" He shrugged, but did not return the hug.

"They can't," Riza assured him. "You will become Fuhrer. Believe me."

"Well…if I don't become Fuhrer, and I hope I don't jinx anything…can I be the Fuhrer of your heart, Riza?"

She broke away from him, raising an eyebrow. "You need to work on your lines, Roy. I love you, but I hate your lines."

The Flame Alchemist snorted and started laughing again, but embraced Riza as she snuggled close to him again.


	3. Out of the Hospital and Into the Fire

Chapter 3

_From: Office of the Amestris Parliament_

_Addressed to: Major General Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Central Headquarters, Amestris_

_General Mustang,_

_First of all, we wish you a pleasant morning, and we are happy to hear that you have been discharged from the hospital after your untimely accident. _

_But we bring more good news. Perhaps you have heard from a member of the Parliament, or from your superiors, that you are being considered as a candidate for the position of President/Fuhrer of Amestris and Commander-in-Chief of the State Military, having been recommended by General Grumman. _

_Currently we are going over your credentials, and we will keep in touch, especially when we come up with the final list of candidates and further instructions._

_We wish you only the very best, and keep the flame alive!_

_The Parliament _

"'Keep the flame alive'. Nice," drawled a blond military soldier, putting his black boots on the table in the center of Roy's office. He yawned, leaning back in the couch and absently patting a black and white dog on the head as the animal sat down in front of him. "Well, I don't know if I should be happy that you're all right, or what. I mean, you get to boss me around again."

"You should be glad that I gave you a promotion," muttered Roy, stretching out his arm. "Now give that letter back before I take back your star, Lieutenant Colonel Elric."

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, arched his eyebrows, but shoved the letter into his superior's gloved hand. "So, you're gonna be Fuhrer. I can see that happy little smirk on your face now. But to me, even if you ruled the entire world, you'll always be that morally-bankrupt colonel with a god-complex – just strike out the colonel and add whatever rank you've got."

"Watch your mouth, Fullmetal. When I become Fuhrer, there will be changes!"

"Lemme guess – you're going to try and force every female officer into a tiny miniskirt, is that right? Hey, Major!"

Through the open door, Roy and Ed could see Riza passing by with a sheaf of reports. Black Hayate wriggled out from underneath Ed's automail hand and bounded towards his mistress. Roy blushed, his face turning a furious shade of red that rivaled his flames.

"Ignore him, Hawkeye. Even though he's only a few months short of his nineteenth birthday, Ed's still almost the same ever since we saw him off the train nearly seven years ago."

"And you're still perfectly the same ever since you passed your alchemy exam, General," answered Riza, stepping back so Black Hayate didn't crash straight into her. Shifting all her papers into one hand, she reached down and patted him with the other. He was getting too heavy to carry all over the headquarters.

Ed laughed at Riza's comment. "So, Major, anything else I've got to know besides the situation in Central? I've got lots to do."

"Like slack off from military duties?" asked Roy with a smirk.

"Look who's talking," replied Ed, smirking back.

Riza sighed, watching the smirk war. It was as if Ed had never been gone. In fact, he never talked about what he had been up to for the past two years – it was probably because of whatever Roy had done as he tried to open the Gate. Of course, if Roy had forgotten about it, it was probable that Ed and his younger brother Al also did.

"Anyway, I'm outta here," said the Fullmetal Alchemist, standing up and giving Roy a mock salute.

"The uniform fits, does it?" called the Flame Alchemist as the new lieutenant colonel walked out the door, waving at a saluting Riza. "I was kind of afraid that even the smallest size would be too big for you."

"I heard that!"

"Of course you did. I meant for you to hear it!" Roy shouted after him before leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. It _was_ indeed good to be back – including the bossing-around-everyone-else part. Even the bandages were off, and he could perform his alchemy as usual – not that he needed it now.

Riza entered the office, Black Hayate dutifully pushing the door closed for her. There was something like a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he did so, before walking towards the table and lying under it, watching his mistress and his mistress' boss.

She plunked all the reports on Roy's table after remembering to lock the door and making a mental note to herself to review her dog on his lessons on locking doors. "I'm so sorry, but since you're the one in charge of Central Headquarters, you'll have to be the one to file all these reports on the assault on Central and forward them to the Parliament. Of course, since you just came from the hospital…"

"Parliament," repeated Roy, glancing at the letter in his hand. "Hmm."

"That's their letter, right?"

"Yeah…I don't know how long it'll take for them to find other candidates…if there are any, that is. Rumor has it that nearly all the members of the Parliament are turning down the job. Even that young one, Quier, he practically cried when someone suggested that he submit all his credentials so he could be considered, and he's probably the sharpest tack in their drawer."

Riza sat down in one of the chairs beside Roy's desk. "I know this isn't something I would normally observe, but perhaps it's a sign. You will become Fuhrer."

She felt her fingers tingle as he held his right hand with his gloved left one – and it wasn't because of any friction.

"Well…it's no secret that I have always wanted the position, until now…but…"

"My grandfather did not recommend you without a good reason – or reasons," the major said softly. "And if my father were here, I bet he would, too. Everyone's backing you up – Havoc, Falman, Fuery, Breda, even Ed, but he just won't admit it, and if Hughes were here, he would definitely be the first one to stand up for you."

"That is, if you aren't fast enough," quipped Roy, not stifling a chuckle in time. He stood up, walked around his table, and sat down in the chair facing Riza's. "What about you?" he asked, taking her hands again. "Will you…back me up?"

He felt her squeeze his hands, and he found himself leaning closer to hear the answer.

"I always have…and I always will…General."

The Flame Alchemist thought that if he didn't plant his feet on the ground firmly enough when he heard it, he would end up floating.

"I told you not to call me that when we're alone together! But yes…I will be the general of your – "

"And I told you, no more cheesy one-liners," said Riza calmly. She leaned just a little closer and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry so much. We'll all be here. Besides, you're worrying so much that it's just getting silly."

It was then that Riza realized just how – attractive – his smile was. Even though most of the time he just looked so smug and cool (which was a rather ironic yet somehow appropriate way to describe him) that it sometimes even ticked her off, she could see that there was much more to Roy's smirk than just that usual smugness. If she looked close enough – and she was definitely close to him now – there was something more underneath all that bravado…something warm and loving. Whatever it was, it was…wonderful.

She was so focused on his smile that she didn't notice Roy bring his own lips towards hers. But before they could touch, there was a knock on the door, and a yell: "Major General, sir, reports on the reconstruction of Central, a few minutes overdue, sir! Are you in there? "

Both of them looked longingly at each other as though they would never see each other again, still holding each other's hands.

"I guess it's back to business," said Riza, suddenly so formal and stoic, just like she always was whenever she meant business. She snapped her fingers twice, and Black Hayate was in front of her, sitting before her and putting one paw up in some kind of doggy salute. She stood up and walked towards the door, but not before giving Roy a look that said, "I'll be back."

He replied with an expression that clearly said, "I'll be waiting."

Riza reached out and unlocked the door, and First Lieutenant Heymans Breda and Warrant Officer Kain Fuery tumbled in, each of them clutching a folder full of photos and papers and hurriedly saluting at the sight of their superiors.

"Were we interrupting something?" asked Fuery nervously, bending down to scratch Black Hayate behind the ears. Breda was backing away rather quickly, holding his file to his chest like a shield and glancing up at the ceiling. "Sir, I'll take that. You go back to First Lieutenant Havoc."

After another salute and shoving his work into Fuery's arms, Breda was gone in a flash.

"No," said Riza curtly, brushing past him and making her way down the next corridor. "I was just off to shooting practice."

Fuery watched longingly as Black Hayate followed the major, his tail wagging. Apparently it wasn't only Riza who enjoyed her shooting.

He approached Roy, who went back to looking over the letter from the Parliament, looking rather disappointed.

"What's wrong, General, sir?" asked Fuery, adding his work to the stack already waiting for his superior. "I thought you wanted to become Fuhrer?"

"It's not that," said Roy with a shrug, putting the letter back on his table next to the reports. "I'm just…thinking."

He was only too happy to be rid of Fuery – not because he didn't like the young warrant officer, but because the Flame Alchemist needed some time to himself to think about the two most important things in his life – namely becoming the Fuhrer, and Major Riza Hawkeye.


	4. Of Parliament Proposals and Puns

Chapter 4

"War hero during the Ishbal rebellion. Passed alchemy exam with flying colors – with an expert show of pyrotechnics. Discovered young talent Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, youngest state alchemist in history, helped save Central from the armored men and the flying machines, and I think if I rattled off his other specific achievements I'd run out of spit.

"Plus, he rises through the ranks pretty quickly. And even though he wasn't as young as this Ed Elric, he was rather young when he took the alchemy exam, even by the average military statistics. See? This guy would definitely make a better Fuhrer than I would!" Devon slammed the documents on the table, many of them bearing signatures of Bradley, Grumman and General Hakuro, along with photographs of Roy, whether solo or with his compatriots.

"Or any of us, for that matter. Working in the Parliament's enough for me. I don't want to be the one standing over all of you," agreed Gideon, adjusting his tie.

"Look over his conduct! Does he exhibit proper decorum, wear the uniform properly, and all that?"

"Absolutely flawless, Snapfuse, they are," said Devon, looking over the papers he had not spread out on the table before him. "Okay, maybe a few flukes here and there, but nobody's perfect. Major General Roy Mustang fits all our criteria for President of Amestris."

A woman sitting next to Devon stood up, tucking a dark curl behind her thrice-pierced ear. "Mustang has experience in being a leader, is a good role model for his subordinates, has a spotless criminal record and a clean slate at the military, and is a valuable asset in defense. In short, he damn kicks butt."

"He has a nice butt," another woman piped up dreamily.

All Parliament discussion suddenly stopped. Everything was quiet, except for a few shoes squeaking on the floor and Devon avidly focusing on organizing the documents on the table. It wasn't until Snapfuse cleared his throat that the dark-haired woman continued.

"As I was saying, Miss Linda Ekart…"

"I'm sorry, Karen," said the blonde woman, hanging her head in embarrassment. She probably didn't mean to blurt it out loud. "But it's true," she added to herself, albeit more softly this time.

Karen nodded. "Now then…where were we?"

"Why are we still discussing this?" asked Snapfuse hotly. "It's obvious that we don't need a Fuhrer, as we're handling things just fine as Parliament! Besides, we can't find anyone remotely able AND willing to take the job! Did this Mustang character say yes?"

"Grumman said that he showed no signs of objection," said Devon. "At least, in his letter."

"Perhaps the poor boy was still too dazed after being hospitalized," Snapfuse insisted, shifting his toupee on his head.

"Then if that was the case, Mustang would have wrote to us immediately after being discharged and receiving our letter, taking back his acceptance to be screened for the position," argued the younger Parliament member. "Can't you accept this change? After all, it was only…two, nearly three years since the last time we had a Fuhrer. We'll get used to it again."

"Snapfuse is getting too old for his britches," commented Gideon, sniggering. "He thinks it'll be the end of the world when we get another Fuhrer after only a couple of years without one. Isn't that right, Mr. Gregory Snapfuse? You're becoming more and more like your namesake as it is."

Indeed, the middle-aged man's face was steadily turning a rather strange shade of burgundy. Devon actually gave a little squeak when he saw it.

"Give Mustang a chance, sir," said Devon, one hand on the finally arranged stack of papers in front of him. "I think he'll blow you away. I know he already has for the rest of us."

Affirmative mutterings dotted this particular part of the meeting while Snapfuse sank sulkily into his chair. Karen gripped Linda's hand before she could comment on Roy's physique again.

"You do realize that there have been rumors floating around the military HQ in Central that Roy Mustang and Major Riza Hawkeye are now an item, right?"

"I just said he has a nice butt; I didn't ask him to marry me," whispered Linda. "What's wrong with that?"

Karen could think of a thousand answers to that question, but for now, she was thinking more about Greg Snapfuse, one of the oldest – and most obstinate – members of the Parliament. He may have nothing against Major General Mustang, but he sure had a lot against choosing a new Fuhrer.

She made a mental note to herself to watch him closely. Sure, he really was getting old, and not liking changes was part of the process, but he seemed rather hell-bent on keeping things the way they were.

---

_From: The Office/Desk/Lair of the Amestris Parliament_

_Addressed to: Major General Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Central Military Headquarters_

_Major General Mustang,_

_A pleasant morning to you, sir! We do hope it's fanning the flames in your favor._

_After weeks of deliberation, it is our pleasure to announce that we have decided to approve you as a candidate for the position of Fuhrer/President of Amestris, because of your spotless record, leadership experience, achievements, and impeccable conduct._

_We wish you luck in the months to come as you undergo the next steps of the process. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_The Parliament_

_P.S. We apologize for Mr. Devon Quier's overuse of slashes and fire-related puns. They don't affect the authenticity of the letter, however, as it still bears the seal and signatures of the Amestris Parliament. We don't know if you find them amusing or otherwise, but we would like to keep the formality in our letters, and we don't care if he was babysitting his daughter while typing out the letter on our behalf._

_Once again, congratulations on becoming an official candidate for Fuhrer._

_Sincerely,_

_Miss Karen Douglas_

---

_Major General Mustang,_

_Congratulations! I've heard that you are now an official candidate for Fuhrer. Just remember that there's still a long road to go before you get those last few stars on your badges, and more steps to climb along the way. After all, it's always much harder to climb up than climb down._

_Sincerely,_

_General Grumman, Eastern Division_

---

"Congratulations! Looks like you're really on your way to the top this time!"

"I heard from my good friend Gideon that the interview or interviews may be tough. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Fuery, he's Major General Mustang. He can handle it. Nothing's too hot for him to handle – no pun intended."

"He's on fire, I tell you!"

"Are we overloading on the fire puns today? I think you started it, Havoc."

Roy couldn't care less if they made all the puns they could with his state alias – after all, he could think of much better puns for their names later on if his subordinates got on his nerves. He was just feeling proud of himself for making the cut and basking in everyone's compliments. And as for everything else that would come his way…well, he would take them when they came.

As he walked down the corridors of the HQ, clutching the letter proudly, he suddenly bumped into another military officer, nearly dropping it.

"Congratulations, sir."

He smiled, and found himself smiling more widely than he had meant to, as he faced this blond officer, who was flanked by a dog with a blue collar that bore the military emblem.

"Thanks…Riza."

"Someone's on his way to the top," she remarked, digging into her pocket for a treat. Black Hayate instantly stood on his hind legs as she balanced the treat on his nose. He nudged it into the air and ate it as it fell into his open mouth. The dog sat down beside Riza, wagging his tail, but obviously knowing better than to beg for another doggy treat.

"Are you coming with me?" Roy asked.

"You can always count on me. I will follow you wherever you go, Major General."

---

"Devon, I know you like those puns and having fun with typing our official dispatches, but I think it's a better idea to keep our messages formal, especially since this man may well be our leader in the future."

"Sorry, Karen. I was just having fun. And it was so cute that Mary started reading out loud from that storybook her aunt gave her for her sixth birthday – "

"Anyway, I have to go. It's the death anniversary of my cousin Juliet. You know, she could have gone all the way to the top of the military ranks, maybe become Fuhrer, if she hadn't died in the Ishbal rebellion."


	5. A Major Interview

Chapter 5

"No, no, no, no, and NO!"

"Well, this is nice. That settles it – everyone in the Parliament wants to stay Parliament, and everyone else in the military wants to stay military, and everyone else wants to stay…everyone else. A lot of the people who were recommended looked as though someone had just told them they were going to be executed."

"Perhaps it was the scare at Central that made them…well, not want to become Fuhrer. Not to mention Bradley's sudden disappearance, and other random things like Lior being wiped off the map of Amestris, and mothers who don't want their children involved in grisly politics."

"This means nobody else is on their way to becoming Fuhrer besides Major General Mustang."

"Good. Much, much less people to put through a grueling set of tasks so they'll give up and forget they ever said yes to this stupid idea. And it makes it easier for us to think of ways to make this Mustang guy back out."

"Honestly, Snapfuse, it was Devon's idea, and he's sitting beside you."

"I say what I want to say, Douglas! And I say choosing a new Fuhrer is still a stupid idea."

"I'm watching you, Greg Snapfuse. Anyway, it's been six weeks. A month and a half since we started hunting for candidates. So I think it's about time we started with Mr. Mustang. We're done with his credentials; what's next? We haven't even made questions for our interview!"

"Where will the interview take place?"

"In the same place where the alchemy exam interrogation takes place. We'll even use the three-legged chair. But first…well, his credentials may be very good, but still, we have to put him under probation. We'll have to watch him very carefully to be absolutely, positively, definitely sure that Mustang is indeed worthy of the position. Isn't that what you had in mind, Karen?"

"It was mostly Devon's idea…but yeah, partly mine. But how will we keep him under surveillance? Can we really trust his subordinates at Central?"

"Well, we can send representatives every now and then to check on him. Otherwise…we'll have to interview Mustang's subordinates every now and then. We can ask them what they think of him, how he runs things in the military, just about anything we can think of."

"Like what he does to always look so hot – figuratively and literally?"

"Shut it, Linda. Can we go back to business…whatever business we were focusing on a few seconds ago? Besides, the rumors have been confirmed – he's going out with Major Riza Hawkeye."

Indeed, around six weeks after confirming Roy Mustang's eligibility as a Fuhrer hopeful, the Parliament was deluged in even more chaos than before. Even though Snapfuse and those who bothered to support him continued to oppose the idea of a leader above them all, none of the opposition showed any intention of taking their verbal objections any further – at least, that was what the rest of the Parliament thought.

Then they realized that they still hadn't figured out how to go about the process of really testing Mustang's capabilities.

---

Black Hayate was at Riza's heels as she made her way towards her office in Central Headquarters. He kept leaping up and down and wagging his tail for some strange reason, and when they got to the door, he started scratching on it and whining. But on the bright side, he didn't look like he was begging for a treat.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked of him. As she turned the knob, the dog shoved the door open and bounded into the room, jumping so much that the military tag on his collar tinkled. "What's – "

Her eyes fell on something large and colorful on her table. Black Hayate had stopped jumping and was now pointing straight at it.

"Why do I have the feeling that a certain someone has something to do with this?" Riza wondered, talking more to herself than to the literal dog of the military. She walked closer, and felt her heart nearly leap out of her throat.

It was a huge bouquet of flowers. There were roses, tulips, daisies…quite a huge variety. And most of all, they were in her favorite colors, or at least, colors that she could tolerate without her eyes twitching. And of course, where there were flowers, there was someone who sent them.

The major gingerly picked through them, making sure she didn't accidentally prick herself on a stray thorn. At last, she unearthed a small card adorned with blue and gold ribbon and the military emblem, addressed to her. Without another thought, she read the message:

"You set me on fire, and now my heart is full of burning love for you."

Riza nearly leapt out of her skin. Someone else was reading the lines aloud with her. But it didn't take long for her to realize who, especially as this someone wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her around to face him.

"You need to work on your lines," she said calmly. But she couldn't help smiling widely at the huge, smug smirk on Roy's face. "I swear, I think you need to hire someone to write them for you."

"Since you seem to know a lot about love lines, then maybe you can write them for me," said Roy, taking her chin into the hand that wasn't on her waist. But before he could lean in just a little bit closer, he felt something around his legs. And from the look on Riza's face, she felt it too.

"Black Hayate!" they chorused.

Riza was the first one to break away. She gently laid a hand on his arm and slowly lifted it off her. "I think he wants us to get to work first. Or maybe he just wants me to find a vase before I get started. I think he knew you were up to something."

"You trained him too well," muttered Roy, crossing his arms and making a mock pout that was so pitiful that the major stifled a giggle. "Let's go before someone sees us here and starts thinking nasty thoughts."

She raised her eyebrows at him. But Roy was already backing away towards the door, still smirking, except this time he looked more goofy than smug.

"Time to get back to work," he said sheepishly.

"I bet," said Riza, still smiling at him as he darted out the doorway and out of sight. "And I bet he has some unfinished paperwork, too. Is that right, Black Hayate?"

The dog sat down in front of her, wagged his tail, and let out a loud bark.

"I thought so. Well, I can't let these wilt, can I?"

"Good morning, Major Hawkeye, is it?"

This time, Riza didn't flinch. For one thing, the voice wasn't dictating a cheesy love line.

"Karen Douglas?"

Karen tucked a dark brown curl behind one of her ears as she walked into the office and sat down in a velvet chair in front of the desk. She watched in approval as Riza snapped her fingers and made Black Hayate sit dutifully by her desk. It was only then that she realized that she was still clutching the flowers in one hand, with the other in a snapping position.

And Karen was eyeing the bouquet with interested, vivid green eyes. A smile was already playing on her mouth, but of course, the major knew better than to start panicking, stuttering and hiding the huge display of color.

"From Major General Mustang, I presume?"

Even though she didn't react dramatically, Riza could feel a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Of course, she knew better than to start acting like a lovesick teenager. "Yes. How did you guess?"

"I saw him running towards his office before I came here," said Karen as though she were discussing the weather. "And of course, I've heard that you two are…going steady. If you know what I mean."

"I know precisely what you mean," was the terse reply. At last, Riza unearthed a large yet plain crystal vase from a cabinet. "Excuse me while I fill this up with water." She would ponder on how a large crystal vase got into her office and why it was even in a place like Central HQ later.

Karen waited patiently as Riza walked off to find the nearest restroom, twirling a lock of hair absently and thumbing through notes on a clipboard. Before even a minute could pass, the major was back with a water-filled vase, and Karen had to admire how Riza didn't spill a drop, even as she started arranging the flowers into it.

"If you're here to tell me anything, you can start. This could take a while."

The Parliament representative nodded, taking out a pen from the pocket of her business suit. "Very well then, let's try to forget even for a moment that Major General Mustang is…erm, your lover. Maybe you could tell me what it's like working with him for so long."

"He knows how to give me work," remarked Riza, pulling out a daisy from the vase and replacing it with a red rose. "But even though he's got his little flaws, like the fact that he can get quite egotistical at times, Roy is a very good leader. He knows how to hold us down – at least, most of the time – and he doesn't make rash decisions, like when he discovered Edward Elric seven years ago, and when Scar was on the loose. Of course, he wants to do everything he can to help the country, but sometimes he forgets things like the fact that his alchemy attacks are useless in the rain…"

Karen's pen was flying over her clipboard as Riza kept on talking. It was obvious that Riza was trying not to be biased, as she was very close to Roy. The major was describing Roy as a very competent, capable officer, but she wasn't making him into something like a perfect god. It was like there was a line that divided reasonable observations from excessive exaltation, and Riza didn't even touch it.

When they were done talking and asking about Roy's little quirks and characteristics that made him…well, Roy, Karen stood up from the chair and saluted.

"That will be all, Miss Hawkeye. Or, should I say, the future Mrs. Mustang? I can tell you right now that he's got a lot of potential as the next Fuhrer, even without having to ask you anything. Thank you very much for your time."

"It was my pleasure," said Riza, sinking into her chair with relief as her flower-arranging duties were over. "And…Mrs. Mustang?"

"You have to admit, it does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" And with that, Karen was out the door, leaving Riza with much more to ponder on than an empty vase in her office.

Somehow, she had to agree with Karen. "Mrs. Riza Mustang" did have a nice ring to it.


	6. More Than Just Twenty Questions

Chapter 6

"Have you always thought of Major General Mustang as a fair boss?"

"Why, of course I have, Miss Douglas – or if you want, Miss Karen," said First Lieutenant Jean Havoc, smiling as much as anyone with a cigarette in their mouth could. "Well, generally he's fair, but he can get tough if you ask for it. Basically, he's nice if you're nice. Enough about Mustang…when are you free this week?"

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Havoc, but I'm fully booked. You know…about this whole Fuhrer thing. We'll see."

Karen Douglas walked away too fast to see Havoc's smile turn upside-down and hear him mutter, "Shoot, there goes another one. And this time, Mustang won't even think of stealing my girlfriends…"

---

"You say Mr. Mustang likes dogs. Is it true that he respects animals as well as people?"

Kain Fuery looked up from where he was feeding a couple of kittens with some scraps he had saved from his lunch. "Oh, he really loves dogs," said the warrant officer, chuckling. "But I've never seen him get mad at an animal before…he saw me pick these poor creatures up from the street and all he told me was to make sure they were potty-trained and kept away from Black Hayate, you know, the major's dog. I'm working on it!"

Karen nodded, kneeling down and watching one of the kittens reach up and try to bat the pen out of her hand. Even after interviewing Fuery, she lingered for a few moments just to play with his little charges.

---

"In your opinion, if Mr. Mustang had been Fuhrer instead of Bradley, would Amestris turn out to be a better country? Check."

Heymans Breda frowned thoughtfully as Karen moved her white rook two spaces forward, putting his black king in jeopardy. "Hmm, maybe the Ishbal rebellion wouldn't have happened. If he were in charge, he would definitely make sure that never happened. And Lior would probably still be standing today. Frankly, a lot of really crazy things have happened while Bradley was Fuhrer. Checkmate, Miss Douglas. You shouldn't have kept on chasing me like that with your rook."

"Guess I didn't see that one coming," she replied with a slightly embarrassed grin. "I should've used it to block your queen, right?"

"Learn from your mistakes, Miss Douglas," said Breda with a nod. "And maybe we can have another game the next time we see each other. I never knew you played chess."

---

"If we gave you the chance to vote for your next Fuhrer, Mr. Falman, would you vote for General Mustang – no strings attached?"

"Of course I would!" said Vato Falman, closing the book he had been poring over. "That man's got a lot that would make him a great leader. I've been under him for a while, seen him in action…he deserves my vote, that is, if I were Parliament. Oh, by the way, Miss Douglas, did you know that there was a Parliament in the past that was only comprised of five people?"

Karen giggled. "My grandmother told me about that," she answered after taking a deep breath and calming herself. "Her own grandmother was a little girl back then, and everyone complained about how they ran the country – giving too little, taking too much. My great-great-grandmother probably listened to her parents and grandparents a lot whenever they talked about politics."

"But in a way, politics can be quite an interesting, if sometimes messy, topic to debate about," said Falman, patting the cover of his book. "Is that all you wanted to ask me, Miss Douglas?"

"Why, yes…thank you very much, Warrant Officer Falman. I hear you might become a Second Lieutenant soon?"

He cleared his throat and felt his face burn. "Yes…I guess you could say that's another reason why Mustang deserves my vote, if I were Parliament."

---

"So, Lieutenant Colonel Elric, you're the famous Fullmetal Alchemist, right? And General Roy Mustang was responsible for recruiting you into the military, despite being only twelve years old. Do you consider him as a father, or a brother, or both?"

Edward snorted. "A brother? Mustang's nothing like Al. But if you mean the annoying, bigheaded kind of brother, then yes, I definitely consider Mustang one." He looked up at Central Headquarters and adjusted the collar of his military uniform.

"Brother!" Ed's younger sibling by a year, Alphonse, reacted indignantly. "You shouldn't be saying things like that about the Major General! After all, we owe him a lot, right?"

Karen listened intently as Ed finally admitted, "He was a better father than our real father, that's for sure. Even though he did get on our – my, actually – nerves, especially with me being under him and all, he's not bad at all. Sometimes it just sucks being under the state and everything, but then again, so is he, and he knows how to deal with it." She didn't hear Ed whisper out of the corner of his mouth, "Good enough for you, Al?"

After Karen thanked them and went on her way, Al gave his older brother the thumbs-up sign. "Good enough, but try to be nicer next time."

"Tell that to General Flame," sighed Ed. "Do you still want to be a State Alchemist?"

"Of course I do," said Al, feeling the breeze ruffle his light brown hair. "So that someone can share the burden you carry, besides the General."

The Fullmetal Alchemist smiled. "Thanks, Al. And you can really see that side of Mustang you always claim to be so innocently blind to."

"Come on, we might be late for dinner at Winry's. And you get to see him again, don't you, Ed? I know you're just itching to head over to her house, and not just for the food."

Ed's cheeks turned a furious red that rivaled that of his and Al's overcoats. "What are you talking about?"

His younger brother grinned impishly. "Someone's in denial."

"Stop it, Al!"

---

"So, you've been getting mostly positive remarks and constructive criticism for our man Mustang, eh Karen?"

Karen Douglas nodded, leafing through her clipboard as her and Devon Quier's footsteps echoed throughout the Parliament's marble walls. The two of them were headed for the meeting room once again to discuss the next phase in Operation: Next Fuhrer, or at least that was what Karen and Devon called it.

"Indeed," she replied. "So I've interviewed his subordinates…what else is next? Do you think we'll start making questions for the official Parliament interview? I bet the General's waiting on tenterhooks…he might be excited."

"Did you tell him he was the only candidate?" asked Devon anxiously. "He could get too overconfident if he finds out he's the only one willing to take over the job."

"I assure you, I didn't say anything about that," said Karen, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "How many weeks do you think it'll take us to prepare for the interview portion?"

"Weeks? You know, the process could take _months_! I mean, assuming that we're working at this same pace. And do you think we should also ask for opinions from random people down the street besides those who have actually worked hands-on with the guy? Then for the interview, each of us would have to have at least one question to ask Mr. Mustang. Then we would have to get the room ready – that room we use to ask wannabe State Alchemists – "

"And make sure nobody ruins everything," Karen muttered. "I never knew choosing the next Fuhrer would be such hard work."

Devon shrugged. "Being Fuhrer _is_ hard work."

"You know, maybe I should've asked if I could become Fuhrer. Maybe it's a lot easier than picking one."

He gasped and grabbed Karen's shoulders, shaking her so vigorously that she nearly dropped her notes. "Are you nuts? Be careful what you wish for! Do you want to end up like Bradley – disappearing without a trace? Do you want to deal with crazy Homunculi and State Alchemist assassins and disappearing cities and flying machines and suits of armor popping out of the sky and – "

Shuddering, she gently plucked Devon off herself. "You do realize that if I had wanted to become Fuhrer, I would've said so earlier. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Apparently everyone in the Parliament's getting even more and more uptight, just like you and me. Especially that oldie Snapfuse. I'm still keeping an eye on him even though I know he's not exactly the kind of guy to send assassins after the next Fuhrer. Neither are his ancient cronies."

Karen paused for a moment. "Now what?"

"We try to get this over with. Then we could probably give all our extra work to Mustang when he becomes Fuhrer."

"When he becomes Fuhrer and you try to give him work, chances are he's going to use his power to give it all back to you."

"Damn…"


	7. The Importance of Being Punctual

Chapter 7

It was another lazy day in Central Headquarters, and there was not much work to do. Quite a few of the military men were gathered in one of the meeting rooms, seated at the huge table in the center. Two kittens – one black and white, the other one white mottled with orange and black – were sleeping on the side of the table that was Fuery's. Edward and Breda were playing chess, and it was obvious from the lines on Ed's forehead that he wasn't exactly winning. Falman was helping Havoc page through some Parliament records to find information on Karen Douglas.

It was so quiet, except for the rustling of papers and the clacking of chess pieces, and the occasional mutterings of "Check" from Breda.

Apparently Ed hadn't come close to putting his opponent's king in jeopardy, and was getting even more frustrated. Soon every other clacking noise was louder and more pronounced.

"Ed, if you keep slamming those pieces like that, you could break the board," commented Havoc as he set aside another folder. "Especially since you're using your automail hand to move."

Suddenly, the door opened and a woman's voice rang out, "Has anyone seen the General?"

Havoc and Falman quickly closed the folder they were poring over, Fuery watched the kittens anxiously to see if they woke up, and Ed yelled out, "Damn, I forgot what I was supposed to move!"

Riza just stood there in the doorway, somewhat taken aback. "Is there anything wrong, Lieutenant Colonel?"

Ed scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "No…sorry, guess I got too carried away."

"And none of us have seen the General come in here," said Falman. "It's been a slow day…is it lunchtime yet?"

"Maybe it's because we finished the reports on the Central attack and there's been nothing else for us to do," said Breda, moving his white rook forward. After doing so, he started looking around anxiously, especially around the major, and gripped the back of his chair.

"Black Hayate's not with her, anyway," said Fuery. "Maybe it's because of these little guys." He patted each of his kittens on the head.

"Asleep in my office," answered Riza. "At least he was, the last time I checked."

"Have you tried his office?" asked Havoc. "Maybe Mustang's holed himself up in there, drawing up plans for total Amestris domination. Hang on…have you been interviewed by Karen Douglas from the Parliament?" As he asked the question, his expression became rather glazed.

Everyone else in the room either nodded or said yes.

"Of course she'd ask us questions," said Falman. "It's yet another one of those things they do when they look for another Fuhrer. They assess the candidate's camaraderie and interaction with others, especially those also in his line of work, but they'll ask civilians as well, most probably."

"I think that's not exactly the answer Havoc's looking for," said Breda, chuckling. "I think he wants to know if anyone bothered to interview Miss Douglas herself about matters such as her address, telephone number, favorite – "

First Lieutenant Havoc jumped out of his seat and shoved a hand over Breda's mouth. "Uhhhh…well, thanks for the information, Falman. Now I really know they're going to use that information to see if Mustang becomes Fuhrer or not."

"I think we all know the answer to that one, seeing as how many strings he's pulled and how many fangirls fawn over him," mused Ed, picking up a black knight and twirling it in his automail fingers before making it retreat into a group of three pawns of the same color. "Why, I remember this one time Winry, Rose, Al and I visited Mustang at the hospital and we heard two nurses _spazzing_ over 'how the patient in room one-four-two is _sooooo_ handsome and hot and cute and I bet he's even _more_ handsome and hotter and cuter when he wakes up'…" He rolled his golden eyes and twirled a finger around one of his ears.

Slightly affronted by his remark, Riza cleared her throat and frowned thoughtfully. "Well, since General Mustang is nowhere here, I think I'll look somewhere else."

"Good luck with that," said Havoc, letting go of Breda and reaching out for the next file on the Amestris Parliament. "Of course, tell us the next time Karen Douglas pays another visit…"

Riza was out the door before he could finish his sentence, the door closing with a particularly audible slam. Ed, Falman, Fuery and Breda broke into peals of laughter, kittens, chess and files briefly forgotten.

"Let's bet that this one will slip away even before the lieutenant catches her!"

"I bet a thousand that it'll be just like last time, with Armstrong's sister…he chickens out when he tries to ask her for a date!"

"I bet _two_ thousand! Douglas should_ really_ come back so we can see Havoc melt till he's nothing like a puddle, or shrink till he's shorter than the tiniest ant…no, Lieutenant Colonel, we didn't mean you!"

"I thought so! Come on, look how I've grown – I'm almost nineteen now! Someone record the bets!"

"Yes, sir, Fullmetal, sir!"

Havoc sank in his chair, trying to lose himself in searching for information about Karen and blocking out the bets and taunts that were flying over his head as though he wasn't there.

---

"General!"

Riza glanced out the window of her office, scoping out the landscape of the heart of Amestris. And there, marching up the steps of Central Headquarters and headed for the entrance, was an extremely familiar black-haired man with a patch over his left eye, white gloves with transmutation circles on his hands…

She was out the door in a flash, her footsteps waking Black Hayate, who followed dutifully, tailing her easily through the corridors of the headquarters until she saw the major general unlocking his office, still shrouded in his gray cloak and clutching a piece of paper in one gloved hand.

"What took you so long?" Riza complained. "It's not like you to arrive this late." But despite being a little annoyed, she let herself into his open arms, reveling in his warm embrace for a few moments and allowing him to kiss her in the deserted hallway. "Don't tell me you've been studying advanced alchemy again."

Roy pressed the paper into her hand as he walked into his office. As Black Hayate followed him inside, Riza stayed in the corridor, seeing the familiar seal of the Parliament even before she began to read.

_From: The Office of the Amestris Parliament_

_Addressed to: Major General Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Central Military Headquarters_

_Major General Mustang,_

_We would like to remind you of your upcoming interview, which has no tentative date as of this moment, but will most likely take place a month or two from now. The interview is a very important and pivotal step towards becoming Fuhrer, and punctuality is a must. By arriving on time, we will see how much you are truly committed to leading this country._

_It will take place in the Interviewing Room, the same place where aspiring state alchemists (like you were years ago) are usually interrogated. You will be questioned by the entire Parliament body and higher-ranking military officials. Come in your best military uniform. The interview may or may not last the entire morning._

_As always, we will always keep in touch with you, especially when we have decided on a final date for the interview, after which will be the deliberation and casting of votes and approval by the Parliament. You will be notified via mail if you have been elected the next Fuhrer of Amestris. _

_Wishing you only the best,_

_The Parliament_

As always, the letter was followed by the usual list of signatures from all of the members, and the Amestris seal.

"Well, at least there aren't any more flame puns," said Riza, walking into Roy's office and closing the door behind her. "And it didn't take too long for me to finish reading the letter. Why would it make you late?"

Black Hayate was curled up at the foot of the Flame Alchemist's desk, but he perked up when the major sat down in a chair by the desk, and went over to her, putting his forepaws on her lap and not lying back down on the floor till he had gotten a good scratch behind his ears.

"It really is just like the alchemy exam all over again," sighed Roy, tapping his fingers on the letter. "I was just thinking of…well, the questions they would probably ask me, what they would expect me to answer…I don't know, getting this from the Parliament feels…strange."

"You've always wanted to become Fuhrer," said Riza, scrutinizing his anxious expression. "Perhaps you've been thinking so much about it that you forgot what it took to get there. It's not an easy road, Roy. Don't focus too much on what's on the end of the path – you'll forget to watch where you're going."

"I know. That's why I mulled over the possible things they would ask or talk to me about. Perhaps they would ask about what I did during the attacks in Central, what I think caused Bradley's disappearance – "

He touched his eye patch and winced, thinking of that incident and knowing full well that _he_ was the reason why Bradley was gone and not many people would believe it if he told them that their previous Fuhrer was actually a Homunculus. Riza nodded in understanding, and reached out a hand to touch Roy's.

"Don't worry so much. It may be tough, to tell you the truth, but it's nothing you can't handle. You've done so much…"

"All those lives I've taken in the Eastern Rebellion…all the lives I've devastated because of it…I have to make it right. I don't want another Ishbal or Lior massacre, and neither do I want Maes' work pushing me to the top be in vain. When I become Fuhrer, I'll set things straight. I _have_ to become Fuhrer, Riza. I want to save lives this time, not destroy them. Even if I am a dog of the military, and may still be even if I am Fuhrer."

The major said nothing, but instead squeezed Roy's hand tightly. "Of course, if you want to become Fuhrer that badly, you would have to go through the interview. And I highly doubt that when you come to power, you'll be able to change that rule. After all, it's one of the many ways the Parliament employs to get to know their candidates better. And wouldn't you want a successor who would continue your good work?"

Roy pouted, crossing his arms. "Well, I'm not going to continue Bradley's work. I'm going to do it my own way, and I'll do it even better."

"And I'll help you."

"What?"

"You heard me, I'll help you. We all will, so stop worrying so much. How many times do I have to tell you that? You don't have to do everything by yourself. When you become Fuhrer, we'll still be around…all of us."

Roy started twiddling his fingers, briefly forgetting that he was wearing his ignition gloves and creating tiny sparks. Riza quickly grabbed his left wrist to keep him from making enough sparks to set the table on fire.

"It wouldn't look good on your credentials if your carelessness set your table, and eventually, your office, on fire," she said, keeping a straight face.

"I was _not _being careless!"


	8. No News is No News

Chapter 8

Riza sighed, absently turning the pages of a book she had randomly pulled off her bookshelf. There was really nothing much to do – in fact, she found herself wondering why she even bothered to come, knowing that the major paperwork and reports on the attacks in Central and the promotions were done. She tapped her table idly and wondered if she could just go back to target practice again.

However, she had already done one more hour than her usual out of boredom. She thought of drilling Black Hayate on soldiers' hand signals, only to realize that she had done so before brushing up on her shooting. Right now, the dog was gnawing on a bone by the door.

But he leapt up at the sound of someone knocking and started to bark and scratch the door.

_Finally, something to do_, thought Riza, who was only too happy to get off her chair and answer the door. As she turned the knob, she saw Roy standing there, yawning and looking every bit as bored as she was. Judging from how somewhat rumpled his uniform was, she guessed that he probably took a nap.

"I need to pay someone a visit," he said, ruffling his hair. "It's not like we'll miss anything."

---

The afternoon breeze was somewhat cool, and it was extremely refreshing after a long day at the stuffy headquarters. Riza clutched Roy's cloak and watched warily for anything, or more importantly, anyone suspicious. The women passing by as they made their way towards the cemetery were already annoying enough – they kept on eyeing Roy, batting their eyelashes despite companions' warnings that he was with another woman and whispering excitedly.

It didn't help when a stronger gust of wind lifted Roy's hair and he ran a hand through it. Riza tried not to reach for her guns as she heard stifled squeals of delight and magnified whispers from girls.

But finally, after a few minutes of putting up with hopelessly infatuated girls, the two military officers got to the more peaceful cemetery, and wove through tombstones and trees to the grave of Brigadier General Maes Hughes. The two of them laid flowers on his grave, and for a moment, they stood there in respectful silence. The wind blew past again; the rustling sounds as it passed through the trees suddenly amplified in the cemetery's austere solitude, and once again targeted Roy's hair.

At least this time there was nobody to say anything about it.

"I told you I would become Fuhrer, Maes," whispered Roy, looking skyward. Riza on the other hand, glanced down at her boots but still managed to keep an eye on her superior – and lover.

"If he were here, he would also tell you to quit worrying about the interview," she noted.

"I know."

"What are you doing here, Major and Major General?"

Roy and Riza whipped around to see Gracia Hughes, wife of the late brigadier, standing there with a bunch of flowers and her daughter Elysia in tow.

"Paying an old friend a visit," said the Flame Alchemist solemnly as he and Riza accepted a hug each from Elysia.

"I've heard," said Gracia, giving him a small, sad smile. "You're on your way to the top, aren't you? Maes wouldn't miss it, and he'd probably be one of the first ones to join you." For a moment, she swapped her smile for a faraway expression.

"The news is spreading?" asked Riza. "So it's not just us and the Parliament who know?"

Gracia shrugged as she gave the flowers to her daughter, who laid them alongside the ones Hughes' compatriots brought. "I think people have been hearing things from the Parliament members and some military soldiers. But they're not just rumors, right?"

"No," answered Roy and Riza together.

"I wouldn't be surprised if your name starts popping up all over the newspapers, General Mustang," remarked Gracia. She and Elysia waved as they left.

The wind was starting to pick up. Before the major could hand over the cloak to its rightful owner, Roy shook his head and said, "No, you wear it."

Riza stared at him at first.

"I'm serious. Let's head back to the headquarters. Maybe if we're lucky, the higher-ups would have something for us to do. I can't believe I'm actually wishing for work."

"For me, you mean. Technically, you're also a higher-up."

"And I'll be much higher up than the higher-ups soon," said Roy, smirking.

"So, you're not worried anymore about the interview, are you?"

"Guess I was just being too paranoid. But I'm still a little worried. After all, you never know what they're going to throw at you, and this time, I can't put up any walls of flame to protect myself."

---

A week or so later, the doorbell rang at Roy Mustang's house on a rather warm morning. He muttered something under his breath and decided to answer the door. At least he had changed out of his fire pajamas and into his military uniform, and pretty much took care of everything that needed taking care of before he went to Central HQ.

He was rather surprised to see a very stupefied paper boy at his doorstep, holding up a newspaper. But the banner headline of the paper shocked him even more than the shocked young boy who looked as though he would die if he tore his face away from the general for even a single second.

"_General Flame eyed as next Fuhrer._"

"Sir," stuttered the boy, who quickly dusted his beige trousers and straightened his blue and white striped shirt, "I knew it, you're…you're…"

"I'll just pay for my paper," said Roy, knowing what the boy was going to say. He dug into his pockets for some spare change and paid his little visitor. "You didn't have to ring the doorbell – you could've just left it for me to pick up."

"But sir…my name is Chucky, with a 'y', and can you sign my newspaper?"

The Flame Alchemist thought nothing else would shock him that day. Obviously he thought wrong, as Chucky drew a small pencil from his pocket, took out a newspaper from the bag he was lugging around, and thrust them towards Roy. Behind Chucky, he could see a small group of kids gathering around and gawping at the guy whose face was plastered on the day's paper. Even a few adults came by, either to watch their children or charges, to see "General Flame" himself, or both.

Roy put the paper on the nearest table, took Chucky's and the pencil, and wrote the first thing that popped into his head.

_Chucky,_

_Keep the flame alive!_

_Roy Mustang, "General Flame"_

He chuckled as he handed everything back to a very excited little boy who was jumping up and down so much that Roy started to wonder if Chucky wet his pants already. The boy shoved the paper with the general's dedication and signature on it in the faces of his peers, gloating and enjoying the attention from the audience.

Come to think of it, Roy himself kind of liked the attention he was getting.

That is, until other kids (and even a few kids at heart) started asking for autographs as well, and despite reveling in the fact that nearly everyone on his block was noticing him, he was still somewhat relieved to see two black cars pull up and several military soldiers get out, breaking up the crowd and making sure he got to work on time.

---

_**General Flame eyed as next Fuhrer**_

_Major General Roy Mustang, otherwise known as the Flame Alchemist, is currently the leading candidate for Fuhrer (president) of Amestris._

_A hero of the Eastern Rebellion and the Central attacks, not to mention a prolific State Alchemist in his own right, Mustang is the Parliament's bet to lead them after the disappearance of previous Fuhrer King Bradley._

_The Parliament has yet to decide on a date to conduct an interview, which is the last step before the final deliberation._

"_We have reviewed his credentials so far and have drawn opinions from civilians and military alike," said one Karen Douglas, one of the members of the Parliament. "So far, it looks like Mr. Mustang is on fire – literally. Right now…" (turn to page 2)_

"Someone's late again," remarked Havoc, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and grinding it into an ashtray as he looked over the newspaper's top story for the day. "Let me guess – you got held over because everyone on your block wanted autographs."

Roy couldn't help but grin smugly. "Actually, you're right, Havoc. It started with the paper boy…"

"And I bet you like the attention, don't you?" teased Ed, his boots on the meeting table again and a kitten sleeping in his hands. "'General Flame', 'on fire'…_everyone_ loves playing up your affinity with all things fire. I think you'll need more bodyguards now – next thing you know, someone will ask you to sign their – "

The door opened and a rather flustered lieutenant burst in, not forgetting to salute. "General Mustang, General Grumman has given his orders to send guards to your residence. Now that you're all over the newspaper and eyed as the next Fuhrer, you'll need extra protection."

"Guards?" Roy repeated. He glared at Ed, who made no move to stifle a snigger.

Second Lieutenant Maria Ross nodded, still standing in the doorway, her hand raised in a salute. "Yes, sir. From now on, you will always be escorted by guards, especially when you become Fuhrer. There may well be people who want to keep you from becoming Fuhrer and will do anything to get it done…"

While Ross went on and on about the need for a pack of guards to always be on Roy's heels, Ed kept on sniggering, completely ignoring the looks Roy was throwing in his direction. Breda, Falman and Fuery started talking about the newspaper article, and noticed that Havoc wasn't saying anything.

"Sir?" piped up Fuery.

"I think it's Ross," whispered Falman, elbowing the younger warrant officer. "He was panting after Douglas, that is, _was_…and now he's probably going after Ross. Well, they did go on a date some time ago…"

"So Havoc wants to date Ross again? Why?"

"Fuery, didn't you hear? Yesterday Karen Douglas came to the headquarters, but she wasn't looking for Havoc. Neither was she looking for an interview, or even the Flame himself."

"What was she looking for?" Suddenly Fuery realized that Breda was not saying anything, and seemed to be concentrating more on whistling and twiddling his thumbs.

"She was looking for Breda," answered Ed, not bothering to lower his voice, as he was sitting next to Havoc. "Then while I was going home that day, I saw them in the park together, playing chess on a bench underneath the cherry blossom tree. And it wasn't just any other quiet, serious game. They were even laughing while playing." The kitten in his automail hand stirred in its sleep, but didn't wake up.

"As if losing a girl to Mustang was hard enough," grumbled Havoc, sinking in his chair again.

Falman shrugged. "I think Douglas goes for the chess-player type."

Havoc just moaned and made a show of trying to pull his hair out.

"Something wrong, Lieutenant Havoc?"

He turned around in his chair and saw Ross looking directly at him. Falman, Fuery, Breda and Ed all traded looks.

"N – nothing," said Havoc. "Everything's just fine and dandy."

"You looked like you wanted to pull your hair out awhile ago," said Roy, raising an eyebrow.

"Just…oh, reenacting a scene from a play I once saw," said Havoc airily. "And then, after that, he faints…"

The major general frowned. "Okay, okay…Lieutenant Ross, you may go."

Before Ross left, she glanced over her shoulder at the group sitting at the table – and most notably, Havoc. He was looking better now, or maybe that was just because he was done dramatizing. She left without another word and left Ed to continue teasing Roy.

"Unfortunately, if you've got a human shield, how can you give out autographs now and sign people's – "

"Zip it, Fullmetal," said Roy. "That's an order." But somewhere inside him, a part of him really was a little disappointed at being kept away from all the attention. Then again, when the ceremonies would come and he would be officially inducted as Fuhrer of Amestris, the real fanfare and attention would begin. "So, Havoc, have you found a new girlfriend yet? I heard Douglas ditched you for Breda."

Havoc gave his fellow lieutenant a dirty look. "I can play chess too, you know."

"Then why do I always beat you?" Breda asked casually, grinning from ear to ear. "I bet he's eyeing Second Lieutenant Ross right now, Major General."

"I see. Well, good luck with that."

Even though Roy was already hooked up with Riza Hawkeye, there were still others who would steal his potential girlfriends…Havoc learned it the hard way. Breda may have Douglas, but there was still Ross, and from his knowledge, she wasn't going steady with anyone, not even her groupie, Denny Brosh.

Havoc decided to focus on more important things, even as Roy started discussing the matter of guards and his becoming Fuhrer and occasionally stopping to tell Ed off for interrupting rudely.

And by "more important", he meant, "another woman whom nobody else would take from him". Ross was pretty, a good soldier, and they had dated once in the past, but would someone else suddenly come around and take her as well?


	9. Vox Populi

Chapter 9

Yet another day in Central Headquarters wore on, and before the day was over, Falman and Havoc were put in charge of organizing some files on the Parliament – more specifically, the ones they had dug up in order to research on Karen Douglas, the late Juliet Douglas' cousin. Actually, Falman merely lent a hand; the plan was entirely Havoc's, in order to learn about her and eventually snag her as a date.

Unfortunately, even before the plan could completely unfold, it was already foiled.

"Guess we all win our bets – me, Ed, Kain, and of course, Heymans 'Lucky Man' Breda. Don't worry; we've all got our worst moments."

"Tell that to Mustang," muttered Havoc as he stomped through the corridors of the HQ, with Falman following behind. "I don't think he's ever had a woman dump him. And I highly doubt Hawkeye would dump him any time soon. How was I supposed to know Karen actually liked Breda, and not me?"

"Now that you mentioned it, when Miss Douglas was around to interview us, when she was interviewing Breda they were playing chess together. I passed by them that time, and she looked like – "

Havoc turned around and scowled at his subordinate. "Oh, shut it – "

He gasped as he collided with another soldier, dropped everything he had been holding and dropped to his knees to pick them up.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just really – "

As Havoc started reaching out to grab every file in sight, he felt another hand swoop down onto the Parliament roster he was about to get. He followed the arm and recognized the soldier he had bumped into – Second Lieutenant Maria Ross.

"No, I'm sorry, sir," she said, gathering anything Havoc missed. "I was just in a hurry. After all, General Grumman put me in charge of General Mustang's security unit as Major Hawkeye's second-in-command, and we've got a meeting in five minutes…" Ross took a deep breath and stood up as the last file was cleared from the floor, thrusting her load towards Havoc. "Is this all?"

"Th – thank you, Ross," he replied, accepting the files and hurriedly scanning them to see if they had missed anything. "Well…you wouldn't want to be late for your meeting. After all, we wouldn't want to see Mustang trampled by cheering fans before his Fuhrer speech. Fan_girls_, to be exact."

Maria Ross laughed, demurely covering her mouth as she did so. "I know. Well, see you around then."

She ran off, her footsteps making rhythmic thumping noises on the floor. When they died away, Havoc rounded on Falman, who was quiet all throughout the encounter with Ross. He said nothing, but was smiling slyly.

"What are you looking at?" Havoc demanded.

"The color in your cheeks – it looks nice on you."

"If I had my way, I'd make Mustang take back that promotion of yours."

"Someone wants a date with Lieutenant Ross. Gee, I wonder who?" mused Falman. "Let's see…his first name starts with J, his last name ends in C, and Armstrong's little sister once rejected him – "

Havoc shoved Falman forward. "Can we go now?" He paused for a moment before speaking again. "Wait a sec – if Ross said Hawkeye was in charge of Mustang's security, and Ross is second-in-command, it means _women_ also call the shots in keeping Mustang safe! Why does _he_ always get the girls?"

The second lieutenant raised an eyebrow. "You've known him all these years and you still don't know why?"

"I was just being sarcastic!"

---

"While I was shopping for new spare parts, I came across this strange woman with dark curly hair in a long purple cloak. She started asking me questions about General Roy Mustang, like what I think about him being Fuhrer. Honestly…I just gave some random neutral answers…I really didn't know what to say. Ed, stop shifting around like that. I can't tighten the screws in your arm if you keep moving."

Ed did his best to keep still as Winry Rockbell twirled a screwdriver in one hand before tackling one of the tiniest screws in his automail arm. "Come on, Al scolded me for nearly badmouthing Mustang. And that was Karen Douglas, cousin of the late Juliet Douglas. The _real_ Juliet, I mean. She's in the Parliament, which means she's one of those who're poking around with Mustang's requirements."

"Brother, we're still indebted to him," protested Al, bouncing a little boy with dark brown hair on his lap. "You owe Mustang for giving you a chance to become a State Alchemist, and now you also owe him for giving you a promotion."

"Winry…" Ed's voice trailed off, not knowing what to say. He, Al, and now even Rose knew that Roy had killed Winry's parents in the Ishbal rebellion. Of course, the Flame Alchemist didn't do it by his own prerogative; he was on direct orders. At first, Winry was more than disappointed, but she learned to understand that if Roy hadn't been pushed by the higher-ups at that time, he wouldn't have done it, and he was definitely never doing it again.

"I don't know," she said grimly. "Sometimes I feel his pain, and sometimes I just wish he didn't pull the trigger, even if he was ordered to do so. And I didn't want to tell that woman that he was the reason why I lost my parents."

"I think you should have," said the Fullmetal Alchemist with a particularly evil smirk. "I'd like to see what would happen."

Al shook his head. "Honestly, Ed, some things really never change. You'll be nineteen pretty soon, Mustang's Major General now and there's a big chance he'll become Fuhrer..."

"Where'd Rose say she was going?" asked Winry, tapping one of Ed's fingers with her screwdriver.

"To the market, probably," said Al. "She got a part-time job at a restaurant and she's trying to raise money so she could find an apartment, at least while she still can't find a more decent job."

"You like her, don't you, Al?" the older Elric pointed out. "You're always asking her if she's doing fine, if she's scarred for life after that witch Dante kept her for the sake of jumping into her body…"

As he had gotten his memories of being a soul bound to armor and his real age back when he and Edward had tried to destroy the Gate of Alchemy back in an alternate world beyond it, Alphonse fully understood what his brother was talking about. "She's always doing fine."

"Have you asked her out on a date yet?"

"Ed!"

"Okay, Ed, I'm done." Winry wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and put away her tools. "You're pretty much like the spokesperson of our automail, since you're so famous and all." She paused for a moment, and then her smile faded and she threw herself onto Ed, embracing him and suppressing a sob.

"Sometimes I don't know what to think anymore. The man who orphaned me is going to become Fuhrer of Amestris. I know he'll do a much better job than Bradley, and he's a good man in his own right, but I can't ever forget that Roy Mustang killed my mom and dad. I thought I finally understood him, but everything returns when I least expect it!"

Ed patted Winry's back with his automail hand while giving her a one-armed hug with the other. "Mustang's a really complicated man. Trust me, I know. He can be a big hero, but he can also be a pain in the neck. And during the Ishbal rebellion, he was mostly following orders instead of making them. He's just as crushed about your parents' death as you are, because he never wanted to kill them."

His voice trailed off. "I can't believe I'm actually defending Mustang. Something's wrong with me."

"Guess he grew on you after all these years, eh, brother?" said Al. His lap was now empty, but judging from the sounds in the kitchen, Rose's son had probably gotten a snack, and Al craned his neck to see what Kain was up to.

"Besides, in a way, I feel his pain," added Ed. "After all, he and I are dogs of the military, called in to do whatever the State wants us to do. Well, now Mustang gets to call the shots. I bet he's so happy, nothing I say can wipe that smirk off his face. Then I'll really be his dog."

"I guess…" Winry let go of the lieutenant colonel and sighed. "Yeah, I guess I still haven't gotten used to it like I thought I would."

"Just give it time," advised Al before he retreated into the kitchen. "Kain, your mom says you can't have chocolate today!"


	10. The Reason Why

Chapter 10

The Interrogation Room. The Interview Room. The Chamber of Questions. The Gold Chair.

These were just a few of the multiple names given to the dimly-lit room in the heart of Central Headquarters, which was the place where aspiring State Alchemists were given their interview after the written test. The aspirant would sit on a golden three-legged chair and maintain their balance throughout the entire thing, while chosen higher-ups of the military would ask them about their intentions and background. All the famous State Alchemists today, such as Edward "Fullmetal Alchemist" Elric, and Roy "Flame Alchemist" Mustang, had passed through that phase of their exams and knew just how uneasy it felt sitting on a rather unstable chair and answering anything the officers would throw at them. More often than not, it was the Fuhrer who asked most of the questions.

But on that day, it was the aspiring Fuhrer who would be interrogated, and instead of military higher-ups, it would be the entire Parliament – although there would be a few higher-ranking generals who would also toss their own questions to the major general who would be entering this room for the second time in his life.

It had been two months since a letter had forewarned Roy Mustang about his upcoming interview. A week before the big day, he got another message from the Parliament finally giving him the exact date and time. He would be holed up in the blessed room for at least the entire morning, only talking when answering a question and alone with the Parliament and some generals from other regions of Amestris, who were ranked higher than him.

Now, he stood outside the glistening double doors, the letter in a gloveless hand. After all, he wasn't there to show off his alchemic skills this time.

On either side of him stood Riza Hawkeye, clutching his hand, and General Grumman, who was giving Roy final instructions.

"Remember that it's not a good idea to get nervous, and answer everything as naturally as you can; I hear that many members of the Parliament can see right through the densest lie. I know you have a lot of achievements, but don't exaggerate anything or brag about them unless you're told to. Because I was the one who recommended you, I won't be asking you anything. I just came here to wish you good luck, and I'll be taking care of anything that will come up while you're being interviewed."

"Thank you, sir," said Roy.

"Be careful in there," Riza reminded him. "I don't want them taking back their proposal of making you Fuhrer just because you got too cocky with them."

He grinned. "I promise I won't get cocky. I'll have all the time to get cocky when I'm Fuhrer. And…if I don't make it…"

Riza gritted her teeth to keep from gasping or reacting in any way. This was almost like that scene outside Roy's house, when he was getting ready to destroy the Gate. He had told her that he loved her, just in case he never made it out alive. But he had, losing only his memory of wanting to demolish the great alchemic border forever and his consciousness for a few days.

"You will. I know you will," she whispered, fixing her eyes on his and knowing that in some way, Roy also knew what she was thinking, as he held her hands and leaned in for the kiss.

For a moment, they forgot that they were in Central Headquarters, in front of a very important room and nearing an important event. For a moment, it was all about them, just their own world. For a moment, they forgot the outside world, their duties to the State, even General Grumman. He just stood there, watching the corridors silently, but sneaking furtive glances at his granddaughter.

_She really loves him, doesn't she? I knew I'd give my granddaughter to the future president of Amestris…but I never knew that she'd actually develop feelings for him and vice versa…_

"I guess…it's time," said Roy, standing ramrod-straight again. "Better get this over with." He took a deep breath and grinned, one hand already on one of the door handles.

"I don't know why I wished you luck. You probably won't even need it," said Grumman, resting a hand on the aspiring Fuhrer's shoulder.

Riza frowned, looking as though Roy was going off to see his executioner. The Flame Alchemist let go of the door, clasped the flame of his heart close to him one last time before he disappeared behind the doors completely, leaving Grumman and Riza outside to stare after him.

"I don't know why I'm so worried," she confessed to her grandfather. "I mean, he really wants to be Fuhrer so badly that he's willing to work for it. Most people would balk and ditch the idea when they hear how much you would have to give for such a high position…but not the Major General."

"Well, he's no run-of-the-mill general, isn't he?" asked Grumman. "Come on, we'll have to take over if he's going to be in there for a long time."

While they finally left for their military duties, Roy found himself standing in the exact same room he had been several years ago, when he was one of the many alchemists who tried out for the honor of receiving the silver pocket watch, knowing that it came with a price – the military's leash. It was as dim as he had remembered, with the three-legged chair in the middle of a circular design etched into the floor. He had also wondered whether it was a real array or not, and even until now, he didn't exactly know.

In front of the chair was a long table. The Parliament members filled the seats, with a few generals and some of the members who weren't able to claim a seat standing like guards on either side. Some of them had notebooks, papers and pens; the rest just looked at Roy with stoic expressions and arms crossed.

"Good morning, Major General Mustang," they all chorused. But one Parliament member, a shriveled, thin old man with an equally grubby mustache, said, "Have a seat. Alchemy is all about balance, but so is the Amestris presidency. And because we know you've been here before, you should already know how to keep your seat stable – for the entire morning."

Roy stepped forward, pulled the chair, and sat down in it, perfectly remembering how he did it during his alchemy exam. At first he had a fleeting thought of himself screwing it up and falling flat on his behind in front of all the higher-ups of Amestris, but he quickly shoved it into the deepest recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to think of such follies.

"State your name and position," said a woman's voice that was clearly Karen Douglas'.

"Major General Roy Mustang, ma'am."

"And you are a State Alchemist, isn't that right?"

"Yes, ma'am – the Flame Alchemist."

"So, Major General, what brings you here? Do you know why you're here on such a wonderful morning like today?"

While wondering where the heck they put the tough questions, Roy answered, "I am here because I have answered your call – the call to become the Fuhrer of Amestris. I come here by my own intention, to hopefully lead the country to a better tomorrow to the best of my abilities."

A few Parliament members whispered among themselves, the standing ones leaning in to listen. Roy tried not to whistle or let his mind wander, well aware that they could pounce on him with a more difficult question at any given time.

Even before the whispers died down completely (and he had a feeling that they won't), another Parliament member said clearly over the rumblings, "Why do you come here to become Fuhrer? Why do you want to become Fuhrer?"

And pounce they did. Everyone fell silent, eager to hear the answer. Even the shuffling of papers and pens came to a sudden halt, and all eyes were on Roy, who silently kept his hands folded on his lap while thinking of something to say.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, and much to his surprise, his voice barely wavered and he felt more confident.

"Because I made a promise to my old friends that I would fix things and set them right. I told them that I would become Fuhrer not only for that, but also to save more lives than I can take, and have taken, as a State Alchemist. I want to be much more than someone called in to mow down the forces regular soldiers can't, and show everyone that it is possible to fix things without having to take lives. As an alchemist, I believe in equivalent exchange; but it is also possible to fix things without having to pay in lives."


	11. Fuhrer Flame and the Rings

Chapter 11

At first, the Parliament thought that deliberation would take ages, judging from how long everything else in the process took. Of course, once again they were proved wrong, as they looked over their lone candidate one last time – credentials, notable achievements, records, lists, notes, surveys, interviews, and of course, the big interview itself.

"C'mon, say it, Greggy, you know you want to say it! Come on, come on…come on! You're just as impressed with Mustang as the rest of us are! Say it! Say it! SAY IT!"

"You were smiling when he stated the reason why he wanted to be the Fuhrer. It's all right. So were we, actually. He even got a standing ovation when he left – he deserved it."

"I don't know…but I have to admit…well…erm…"

A vertically-challenged Parliament member with mouse-brown hair slammed several papers in front of Snapfuse, nearly giving the old man a heart attack. "You're going to eat your words, aren't you? You're going to finally admit that maybe this whole Fuhrer idea IS a good idea after all!" he repeated over and over again.

"But it is!" pleaded Devon. "It was my idea!"

Sinking into his chair and glaring at the papers and all his fellow Parliament members, old Greg Snapfuse finally surrendered. Grinding his teeth and adjusting his toupee for the umpteenth time that session, he whispered, "I guess Mustang really has what it takes to become Fuhrer. I wouldn't mind being under his leadership, after seeing for myself what kind of man he is and what his intentions are."

Karen raised an eyebrow. "I think ever since we put Mustang on the road to becoming Fuhrer, you were secretly supporting him, but hid it behind that Parliament-does-everything façade of yours. And look, everyone, let's quit rubbing it into Greg's face. At least he didn't like, send a troupe of assassins after the rest of us, or after Mustang. Actually, since he's got good security AND great fighting skills, anyone would think twice before attacking him."

She paused, still standing and looking out at everyone.

"Then it's settled – all in favor of Fuhrer Roy Mustang, say aye!"

"AYE!"

Every soul in the Parliament raised a hand. In fact, Snapfuse was one of the first. After counting everyone and making sure that it was indeed everyone, Karen raised her own hand before clapping. The rest of the members followed suit.

"I guess all that chaos finally paid off, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, you get to go on another date with that lieutenant I saw you in the park with, and I can finally enjoy a whole day with my wife and kids without having to ditch them for these crazy meetings!" said Devon, leaning back in his chair and letting out a contented sigh.

Karen flushed a delicate shade of crimson. "Can we go to planning the induction ceremony now? _Please?_"

"And yes, yes, the letter for Mr. Mustang, which will probably be the last one from us for a while, which we must send along with the date, time and place of the induction. As King Bradley seems to have left with the court sword, we'll have to make a new one as well…it's a symbol of power, like the four stars on the Fuhrer's insignia. And we also need to affix the stars on Mr. Mustang's badges during the ceremony…"

"Looks like the chaos isn't over yet," Karen grumbled. "Far from it, actually."

---

_**Mustang is new Fuhrer**_

_Major General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, is now officially the new leader of Amestris, according to the Parliament._

_Two months after Mustang's interview and further surveillance, they have accepted him as King Bradley's successor, but the date and place of the official induction is still unknown. _

_According to Mr. Gregory Snapfuse, one of the senior members of the Amestris Parliament, there was no doubt that Roy Mustang would make the cut._

"_His records are flawless, his achievements stunning, and I believe I speak on behalf of the entire Parliament when I say that he is indeed…(turn to page 2)_

---

_From: The Office of the Amestris Parliament_

_To: Fuhrer Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist_

_Fuhrer Mustang,_

_We suppose you already know what we're going to say in this letter, as we are no longer addressing you as Major General._

_Congratulations! After much deliberation and work, we have found you truly worthy of the title of Fuhrer, or President, if you wish, and commander-in-chief of the military. _

_We are currently in the process of organizing your formal induction ceremony. We will update you when we find a date, but rest assured that it will take place in the Central Headquarters parade grounds until further notice. Do be in your regular major general uniform, as the respective badges and stars will be affixed on the day itself. _

_Official business begins three days after the induction ceremony, and it would please us to see you during our Parliament meeting on that day. We look forward to it._

_Sincerely,_

_Amestris Parliament_

---

_Fuhrer Roy "Flame Alchemist" Mustang,_

_On behalf of the entire Amestris military, congratulations on becoming Fuhrer. We put ourselves at your service, and we know that you will wield your new power just as well as you wield your alchemic flames. We wish you only the best, and may you serve this country well for many years to come._

_Even though you're Fuhrer now, don't forget that you were once a military soldier, and you will always be a State Alchemist. In fact, people might actually feel safer if they know a seasoned fighter and alchemist is leading them. Keep moving forward, but don't forget to look back every once in a while at that path you traveled and left behind you as you pass through. It might even draw a few laughs and of course, a lot of lessons. _

_And of course, don't forget to prepare your speech. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_General Grumman, Major Hawkeye, Lieutenant Colonel Elric, First Lieutenant Havoc, First Lieutenant Breda, First Lieutenant Ross, Second Lieutenant Falman, Warrant Officer Fuery, Master Sergeant Brosh, etc…_

---

_Fuhrer Mustang,_

_Congratulations! We know you'll definitely be a better Fuhrer than the last one. We read it in the newspaper. Oh, and Ed told us all about it too. You must be really happy, and we're sure a lot of people (including us) are happy for you too. Even Ed – he just doesn't want to admit it._

_Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric, Rose Thomas and Winry Rockbell_

_P.S. Hey, Mustang, guess you really can boss _everyone_ around now, huh? – Ed_

---

_Roy,_

_I told you you'd be Fuhrer. You were nervous for nothing._

_I love you even if you didn't become Fuhrer, but yes, you still need to work on your lines. It doesn't help if you use flame puns, either. _

_Riza_

_P.S. Yes, I would love to see that play and have dinner with you after the ceremony. _

---

"Hey, look, what's that?" asked Havoc, peering through the glass windows of Falman's car.

"Isn't that the shop that sells mostly watches and jewelry – and the place where they get the chains for the State Alchemists' pocket watches? And I thought the Major was in charge of choosing a Congrats-You're-The-Fuhrer gift," complained Ed.

"I know, but – hey, let's have a look!"

Falman hit the brakes and parked the car as neatly as possible, while in the backseat, Havoc and Ed waited impatiently till the engine stopped running and they could hop out and see what was going on at that particular shop, or more specifically, why it was surrounded by a handful of military soldiers keeping out curious passers-by and nosy reporters who started towards the three new arrivals, but were instantly stopped and shooed away by the soldiers, who saluted after the work was done.

"Lieutenants Falman and Havoc, Lieutenant Colonel Elric," proclaimed a very familiar female officer who instantly made Havoc freeze in his tracks. "What brings you here?"

"What's going on, Ross?" asked Ed. "What's with all the guards around the – "

"Ed, look!" The Fullmetal Alchemist suddenly found his face being squished into a glass window of the shop. As Havoc eyed Ross, who was ordering a couple of privates, Falman grabbed the first lieutenant by the back of the collar and shoved him into the window as well, next to Ed.

The shop didn't seem to be doing much business that day – there was only a single customer inside, clad in a long gray cloak and hanging around the display of rings. He had short black hair, and when he pointed at something in the glass cases, his hand was covered by a white glove with something embroidered onto it – it looked like a transmutation circle. The shopkeeper was absolutely beaming as he talked to his lone client – it was hard to tell what they were saying. But whatever they were talking about, the shopkeeper seemed to enjoy it.

His client turned around with a ring in one gloved hand, and after just a glimpse of his face, the snoopy trio quickly tore themselves away from the window and moved out of sight as much as possible. They were sure that he saw them as well, but they couldn't believe what they saw – they couldn't believe that the customer had an eye patch over his left eye, and was dressed in military regalia underneath his cloak. The silver chain of a pocket watch gleamed at his waist.

"Now you know," came the voice of Ross, making them jump. While Ed clapped his hands together, ready to transmute, his two companions groped for their guns. Of course, when they saw that the threat wasn't a threat at all, they lowered their weapons, especially Havoc, who was grinning stupidly when he realized he was trying to stuff his pistol back into his pocket instead of its holster.

"The Fuhrer's in there?" asked Falman softly. "Buying…a_ ring_?" He moved away from Ross and towards the guards who were surrounding the door of the shop, who all saluted at the sight of him. "Wait. I think my mind's just playing tricks on me…"

"We saw Mustang looking at rings too, Falman," chorused Ed and Havoc. The three of them traded looks before furtively sneaking towards the large window again.

Ross sighed and shook her head. As she did, she swore that she saw Havoc looking at her – and she somewhat hoped that she wasn't seeing things either.


	12. Moment of Truth

Chapter 12

_Author's note: Yes, microphones exist in Amestris. Hughes in episode 13 should be proof enough. XD_

The sun smiled down brightly on the parade grounds of Central Headquarters, its rays bouncing off many golden badges of military officers – and the unprotected heads of the Parliament members, reporters and VIPs. Dozens – maybe even hundreds, probably close to the thousands – of chairs were laid out in front of a huge stage with a podium draped with the Amestris military seal and the backdrop of the seal of the Amestris Parliament, and a red carpet was laid down the aisle.

Somewhere up front, five seats had already been taken by two women, two men and one little boy.

"Well…this is it," said Al, twisting in his seat to look back at the rest of the audience. Most of the chairs had already been filled by the military, the Parliament and other esteemed guests. Several people in uniforms were crowded at the back, some of them lugging around huge trunks of different shapes. "The day Mustang officially becomes Fuhrer. And I think Ed only dragged us in here so he doesn't have to endure the Fuhrer's speech alone with the rest of the military."

"I know," said Winry, who was seated closest to the aisle. "Well…I still don't know whether to trust him or not. I mean, he's taking the reins now and everything…"

Rose passed Kain a cookie. "Give him a chance," she advised her. "After all, he's done more good for the State, or at least that's what I hear from Ed, Al and Mr. Armstrong."

"Indeed!" Alex Louis Armstrong interrupted them, gesturing with a flourish. "I can honestly say that I look up to Major General Roy Mustang. The Armstrong family has a penchant for picking the truly prolific alchemists from the rest, which has been passed down for generations!"

"Well…at least he's not ripping his shirt off," whispered Al to Rose, who stifled a giggle.

"Is it starting yet?" whined Kain, swinging his legs back and forth as he fidgeted in the seat between Winry and Rose, stuffing the last of his cookie in his mouth. He fidgeted even more as Rose drew a handkerchief from her pocket and swabbed his mouth clean of crumbs. "I'm hot and bored and I wanna see Uncle Ed march down the red carpet and all his friends play the instruments and – "

"Instruments?!" repeated Al. "That'd explain those huge things they're carrying back there…"

"An Amestris government tradition – the military marching band!" declared Armstrong, looking extremely reminiscent.

Meanwhile, everyone else at the back started getting ready while Al, Winry and Rose up front wondered if it was worse having Armstrong in the military or not. Men and women alike fumbled with their uniforms, caps, flags and instruments, some of the higher-ranking officers shouted out last-minute instructions, and one lieutenant discreetly practiced with his trombone.

Only three of them seemed quite composed despite the situation: a general, a major, and a major general who would be relinquishing his post – for a much higher one.

"You still remember how the processional goes, right? First, the marching band and the standard-bearers will walk, and then the generals, followed by the officers of Central Headquarters, and lastly, myself, Riza, and you. Don't be shy, but don't be too proud either. On second thought…this is a special occasion…"

"Grandfather," said Riza gently, resting a hand on Grumman's shoulder. "I think Roy knows everything there is to the ceremony, down to the last part where he makes the pledge, is presented with the sword and the stars that complete his badges, and gives his speech. He won't forget a thing."

Roy gave them his usual casual smirk. Obviously he wasn't nervous, or anxious, or anything in between. After all, it was his big moment. He would finally reach his dream of becoming Fuhrer of Amestris, and get the chance to make things better. His single dark eye glittered with confidence and valor.

"This is it," whispered Riza, smiling back at him. "If anything goes wrong, this is an entire parade ground full of military soldiers."

"I don't think – "

Feedback echoed throughout the area, making about three-quarters of the crowd jump. They heard someone tap the microphone several times and a woman's voice say, "Testing…testing…is this thing on?"

"It is now!" shouted several voices.

"Get on with it, Karen!" someone else bellowed.

"Yes, sir," said Karen through the microphone. She cleared her throat, and said as loudly as she could, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today we are here for the induction ceremony of the new Fuhrer of Amestris…"

Several heads turned and many eyes took a good look at their new Fuhrer. Most of them sized him up, scrutinizing every part of him, from his hair down to his feet, especially the patch that covered his left eye, strangely reminiscent of the past Fuhrer. But besides that, everyone could tell that this new man was entirely different from King Bradley, and would really bring a big change in their world…

"…we will now begin with the entrance of the standard-bearers, the military band, and the Fuhrer and his entourage."

Karen gave a sheepish grin to the audience before quickly leaving the podium and heading back to her seat, only to realize that the rest of the Parliament were already gathered up at the rear, taking their places as they got ready to march. _Stupid emcee got a head cold and couldn't come and now I have to do his freaking job_, she grumbled to herself as she ran towards the back, nearly tripping all over her black stiletto heels. The rest of the audience watched avidly until she disappeared into the cluster of people there, and some of them noticed her hesitate to smile at one of the lieutenants hefting a bass drum.

"Well…she has nice shoes," Rose commented. Winry nodded in agreement. But neither of them said anything else as they heard a general's deep bass give orders, and the footsteps that followed. They and the rest of the audience craned their necks to see the four officers bearing two flags – one for Amestris, and one for its military, led by the mascot – a black and white dog wearing the military emblem on a blue collar. They led the way, followed by the marching band, which started playing what sounded like a victory song.

"It's all so beautiful," sighed Armstrong, brushing a tear from his eye. But his companions were too transfixed by the entrance rites to notice or to comment.

The band was closely tailed by the generals, from the highest-ranking ones down to the brigadier generals. Behind them were the chosen officers who weren't in the band, and Al saw Ed wave surreptitiously at them as they passed and took their seats.

The Parliament was next, a sea of colors and styles in contrast to the uniformity of the military – the only thing common among them were their Parliament medallions. But they marched as formally.

It was only when the aisle was completely cleared when the last three people started to march.

General Grumman was on the left, while Major Hawkeye was on the right, and they flanked another man, who was looking rather proud of himself. His hands were in his pockets as he walked, and he held his head high. The whispered cacophony increased tenfold as he passed.

"Isn't that the Flame Alchemist?"

"He's the man called Mustang, yeah."

"Yeah, he's going to be Fuhrer, like he wants."

"They say he could be the youngest Fuhrer in the entire history of Amestris!"

"He sure climbed through the ranks pretty quickly for a young guy like him."

"I bet he'll be a better leader than Bradley ever was."

"Nah, I think I kinda miss King Bradley…"

None of these seemed to bother Roy at all. He just focused walking towards the stage until he, Grumman and Riza took their seats in front of the Parliament. He didn't even give a hoot to the way Ed snickered and elbowed Havoc, or the unfathomable expression on Winry's face as she watched him.

When everything was done, Karen took the podium again and ignored the little waves of giggling that broke out through the audience and any eyes on her stilettos. Without any further hesitation, she said, "Let us now call on the Amestris military's marching band to lead us as we sing the national anthem."

"Since when did we have an anthem?" whispered Ed to Havoc. Needless to say, he got his answer as the conductor waved his baton a few times and got the band playing again.

A few audience members sang loudly, many of them just mumbled to themselves the words of the song, and still others simply kept quiet, or kept others quiet, in the case of Rose, who was dealing with a boy who kept rocking back and forth on his heels and whining constantly that he wanted to go home and play with the new toy Uncle Al and Aunt Winry made for him.

When the anthem was over and the band took their seats once again, Karen spoke again, as she didn't leave the stage. "Good morning once again, ladies and gentlemen. Today we are gathered here at Central Headquarters for a very important day – the day when we induct the next man to lead our wonderful country. After months of deliberation and careful planning, surveillance and interviews – "

Riza and Roy instinctively reached out for each other's hands, the major feeling her superior's warm, gloved hand and his warmer smile.

" – we have bestowed this great honor upon none other than Major General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. We would like to call on General Grumman to give us a little background information on our new Fuhrer, to be followed by a member of the Parliament for the in-depth criteria used in determining the competence of the succeeding Fuhrer…"

---

Kain was sound asleep, his head on Rose's shoulder. Ed was struggling to keep his eyes open, and got an unintentional nudge from Havoc, who was snoring. In turn, Ross stepped on Havoc's foot, which instantly woke him up. The two of them were barely able to stifle their laughter, but quickly put on straight faces when Karen spoke again.

"We shall now proceed to the pledge of the new Fuhrer."

This time, it was Ed who needed to put on a straight face.

Karen got off the podium and made way for General Grumman and a couple of other generals, closely followed by Roy. Grumman took Karen's place at the podium.

Clearing his throat, Grumman said, "Roy Mustang, before we formally accept you as our next leader, please raise your right hand for the pledge."

But as Roy did as he was told, another voice rang out from within the crowd. Someone at the rear stood up, and for a moment, he thought it was Ed.

It wasn't.

This person had tanned skin, dark brown hair, and a rifle – and he was too tall to be Ed. A couple of other men stood up as well, armed with two guns as well.

All five firearms were pointing straight at Roy.


	13. Without Further Ado

Chapter 13

"You killed my parents!"

Of course, as more than half of the assembly was made of military men and women, the three would-be assassins were instantly surrounded. The crier's two accomplices were quickly subdued and reduced to struggling in the arms of several soldiers. Two colonels lunged for the one carrying the rifle, but they were too slow, and the man rushed into the aisle, ready to be snatched up by more military personnel and volunteers who leapt out of their seats, led by Riza, whose hands were full of gun.

"The Fuhrer is our first priority!" she shouted, doing her best to keep her voice from wavering. _Great…even before he's officially Fuhrer, he's already in a heap of danger._ "Come on!"

"Don't take any lives!" ordered Roy, adjusting his right glove. "I want no bloodshed!" His voice rose abruptly on that last syllable, laced with worry. He wasn't too worried about himself – he could take care of himself. He was more concerned about Riza, not to mention the very people he was supposed to be leading.

Meanwhile, Al, Armstrong and some other men herded the unarmed and the Parliament members beside the stage. And on the stage itself, a pack of soldiers leapt up and enclosed Roy and the generals in a semi-circle before Roy could do anything else.

"You – you killed my parents during the Ishbal massacre, and my aunt and uncle, too!" howled the assassin who was still loose. As he loomed closer, narrowly dodging soldiers but still not firing his rifle, everyone could see that he bore the characteristic red eyes and brown skin of an Ishbalan, unlike his companions.

"How did they get in?" asked General Grumman of one of the corporals in Roy's human shield.

"I think they were photographers of one of the New Liorite tabloids, general!" replied the corporal. "I saw them come in with some reporters, toting camera equipment, sir!"

"What damn nerve you have, calling yourself Fuhrer!" the assassin continued, brandishing his rifle but not actually firing it as Havoc and Riza grabbed him by the shoulders. "Our god will judge you and send you to eternal damnation!"

Before Ed could clap his hands and transmute the Ishbalan assassin's rifle into something absolutely useless, Roy raised his right hand over the heads of his guards. With one quick snap, he sent a blaze of fire spiraling towards his would-be killer. Ed gasped and jumped aside. Havoc braced himself, trying to recall some good burn remedies, while Riza kept her grip steady, a gun at the assassin's throat, and her eyes on the Flame Alchemist.

But instead of igniting the Ishbalan, Roy's alchemy merely heated up the rifle, making it too hot to hold on to, but not hot enough to ignite the gunpowder or the bullets. The rogue Ishbalan cried out in pain and dropped the weapon, while Ed and Havoc breathed sighs of relief.

"What about the other two?" asked Havoc as Fuery ran past them.

"Got 'em," said the warrant officer, stopping in his tracks and giving a thumbs-up with the hand that wasn't holding a pistol. "We even found the tabloid reporters who hired them in the first place. According to Falman, the reporters had absolutely no idea that their coworkers were actually planning to assassinate the Fuhrer and were going over and over that they were pretty good photographers. It's a good thing the audience is more than three-quarters military, and there were only three of them."

"We'll take them in for questioning anyway," added a private behind Fuery, saluting her superiors. "The two are being carted away along with the reporters."

"Where's Mustang?" asked Ed, kicking the rifle underneath a chair. "Where the – _what_ the hell is _he_ doing now?!"

Time seemed to stop as everyone watched two lieutenants step aside reluctantly from the stage to allow Roy to pass – from the looks on their faces, it was clear that they had been given a direct order. The Flame Alchemist walked delicately down the stairs, his hands in his pockets again, moving through the aisle and towards the spot where Havoc, Riza, the private, Fuery and Ed held the assassin. Everything was silent except for Roy's footsteps.

"I cannot deny that I have taken parents from their children, and children from their parents, during the massacre," said Roy quietly, stopping before them. "I cannot deny that I took many lives…devastated the lives I didn't take…scarred the lives I didn't devastate. I was even under orders to get rid of anyone who got in the military's way, being a State Alchemist, and therefore practically a weapon of the State, a power that they can wield whenever they need to, or just want to.

"But now, I choose to become Fuhrer so I can save lives that I didn't take, and stop taking lives all together. When I become Fuhrer, I cannot bring back those I've killed, directly or indirectly, but the most I can do is fix the lives I have destroyed, fix this warped, imperfect world to the best of my capabilities, and fix the perception everyone has on State Alchemists, that we are nothing more than human artillery. We, and the military in general, can do much, much more than that, without hurting anyone."

"And this is the part where you burn me till I'm nothing but ashes on the ground, is that it?" grumbled the Ishbalan, struggling as Ed placed his transmuted automail blade in front of his throat, adding to Riza's pistol.

"No," said Roy simply, turning his back. "I'm not that kind of person…at least, not anymore. But I'll leave you and your accomplices in the capable hands of the military police and the law."

And with that, he walked back towards the stage, not looking back, save for a glimpse of Riza.

---

After the suspects were carted into custody and everything was set straight once again, there was no choice but to go on with the ceremony – after all, everything was already there, including the stage and the vast sea of chairs. Thankfully nobody was killed or hurt in the assassination attempt, except for several minor scrapes and bruises; apparently the assassins were either too cowardly to use their own weapons or too scared of injuring anyone besides their intended target.

But before the morning dipped into afternoon, the induction had to be wrapped up.

"I, Major General Roy Mustang, do hereby promise to govern and serve the country of Amestris and its people, to keep them safe from all harm and discord, and to use my abilities for the better of the country. I also promise to command the Amestris military for the greater good, and to stay a living emblem of hope, justice and peace for our people. I will uphold the law and be a role model for all, and always put the country and its citizens first before myself. Today, I come before you and humbly ask to be accepted as Fuhrer of Amestris and commander-in-chief of the military."

Roy took a deep breath and put down his right hand slowly. The two generals beside him saluted, and the rest of the military did so as well – although Ed had to be elbowed twice by Ross.

An old, withered lieutenant general tapped the microphone nervously before saying in his equally dried out voice, "On behalf of the Amestris military, we accept you, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, as our leader."

"On behalf of the Amestris Parliament," continued Karen, who was beside the general, "we accept you, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, as our leader."

One of the generals held out a naked, newly-made court sword by its hilt, and offered it to Roy, who took and held it in both hands in front of him, letting the point touch the stage floor. As he examined it before putting it into the scabbard and strap, which were offered as well, he noticed that the cross-guards were made to look somewhat like gilded dancing flames, and the pommel held a small, fiery-red gem that looked as if a tiny plume of fire was locked inside. Then he wore the sheathed sword, the strap going from his right shoulder to the left side of his waist.

The other general clutched a small box, which he offered to Grumman and Riza, who were standing near the podium. They opened it, and each of them took out three tiny gold stars.

The band started to play an even louder, more energetic victory-type song as the general took his place on Roy's left, and Riza on his right. Together, granddaughter and grandfather affixed the stars on the new Fuhrer's shoulders. At first there was only one star on each of his badges, signifying his Major General rank. Now there were four, undermining Roy's new position.

"Congratulations, you are now officially the new Fuhrer of Amestris." said Karen and the general together. "We trust that you will serve the country well."

Just a millisecond after her last word, the audience erupted into cheers and applause, punctuated with cries of, "Long live Fuhrer Roy Mustang! Long live the Flame!"

The new Fuhrer stood there, looking out at the audience. He could spot several familiar faces – Winry giving him a sincere smile of congratulations as she clapped politely, Ed laughing and elbowing Havoc repeatedly before clapping as well, Armstrong sobbing so much that Al kept on patting his back, and Elysia Hughes jumping up and down beside her jubilant mother. Hats were tossed, and majority of the audience were on their feet, cheering and applauding till their hands hurt and their voices were hoarse.

And as for Riza, she squeezed Roy's right hand tightly. "Congratulations, sir," she whispered.

"The date's still on, right?" he asked, smiling.

"Is that a direct order?" said Riza, raising an eyebrow. "But yes, it is, direct order or no. You can pick me up at seven this evening. And, you still have a speech to make."

Roy grinned apologetically, watching the audience sink back into their seats, awaiting their new Fuhrer's speech. "Right…okay." He walked towards the podium, which was already empty. The last of the euphoria died down as everyone waited for him to speak.

---

Several months passed since the installation of a new Fuhrer. Amestris, like any other country, wasn't perfect, but compared to its performance in the past few years, it was pretty much thriving under the ever-vigilant, confident eye of Fuhrer Roy Mustang and his loyal team, Parliament and military alike – which was very good, as it turned out that Roy was not only Fuhrer, but also the youngest Fuhrer Amestris ever had, and one of a handful who were also State Alchemists.

The culprits behind his attempted assassination were sentenced accordingly after a fair trial, and after that, there weren't any more tries on the Fuhrer's life. It turned out that they had found work at a Liorite tabloid paper just so they could dig up dirt on Roy and find a way to get rid of him for vengeance purposes (as the Ishbalan whose parents Roy supposedly murdered seemed to have just roped the other two into his plan), but nobody had figured out their scheme until the ceremony.

Now, one warm night, Major Riza Hawkeye was being escorted through the deserted park in Central, underneath a starless, moonless blanket of black. She was blindfolded, and the only reasons why she didn't end up getting lost or bumping into anything along the way were First Lieutenant Jean Havoc and Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric.

"Where are we going?" she asked, stretching out her arms and feeling the bark of a cherry blossom tree.

"Hey, this is where Douglas and Breda had their first date!" exclaimed Ed.

"You'll see," said Havoc. He tugged gently on one of Riza's wrists. "Turn left. C'mon, you can't miss this!"

"Miss what?"

Ed chuckled. "Well, for one thing, it has something to do with a certain – "

"Don't spoil it!" Havoc interrupted.

"Aw," grumbled his superior. "It would be priceless if – "

"Ed, you're leading Hawkeye down the wrong path. It's this way, remember? You wouldn't want to get bur – erm, skinned alive, do you?"

"Geez, I'm sorry. Okay, okay…you mean the cobbled path with the buttercups?"

"Yes, yes…now hurry!"

"I thought you wanted to prolong the suspense, Lieutenant. And it wasn't my fault I got roped into a stupid scheme like Must – "

"I apologize in advance for my brazen words, Lieutenant Colonel. Shush, darn it!"

"Sorry."

As for Riza, she kept quiet as Havoc and Ed bantered and steered her through the park. She heard the calls of nightingales and the rustle of wind as it toyed with the trees, not to mention the constant arguments of her colleagues, but not much else. Where were they taking her?

After a couple more turns and another few complaints from Ed, they stopped. Riza felt a little dizzy as though she had been spun around in circles instead of led blindly through the park – judging from the crunch of grass and stray dry leaves under her feet, the warm breeze that enveloped her in its embrace, and the trees and benches she felt, she could tell that she was in the park, without anyone telling her.

But there was a new sound that caught her attention – the faint booms and crackles of multiple explosions. She plunged her hands instinctively into the holsters of her guns, but changed her mind quickly when the blindfold was taken off and her eyes adjusted.

Riza could see that they were indeed in the park – albeit in a secluded area of the park, which was marked by two statues of cherubs pointing their bows and arrows skyward, flowering trees and bushes deluged in roses and other flowers, and a cobbled path surrounded by buttercups.

Then she looked up into the sky – and saw jets of fire shoot up and fountain into splashes of sparkles. More kept on coming, and they seemed to be coming from the same source. Not noticing that the First Lieutenant and the Fullmetal Alchemist were gone from her side, she followed the source and saw a tall figure not too far away, its hands raised to the heavens, creating fireballs and sparks and other random quirks that added to the light show.

She felt her heart beat in her throat and quickened her pace. Her quarry loomed closer; the explosions were louder; the pyrotechnics and the identity of the curious stranger more apparent…

A blazing tongue of fire spiraled skyward and lit up the darkness with a dazzling flash before suddenly splitting into two new fiery jets curving up and rolling down. It looked as if a heart was set on fire and thrust into the night like a flaming, irregular moon. More fireworks followed; fountains of sparkles and flashes that seemed to take over the stars' turf as the man lowered his hands and stretched them towards Riza.

"I've been waiting," he said softly. She was now close enough to be clasped to his chest. The major was aware of the warm hands on her waist – so warm that she could feel the remnants of the heat that made all the pyrotechnics possible. One of them moved to caress her face, tracing the outline of her face and giving her little frissons from the sensation and friction. She found herself placing her hands on his shoulders, counting the stars on the badges…one, two, three, four…and felt her spirits soar as he kissed her softly.

"Riza Hawkeye…" He whispered her name and slowly separated himself from her, snapping his fingers and creating what looked like a phoenix – or possibly a hawk – made entirely of fire, which flew into the sky and through the flaming heart still etched into the black of night. "You set my heart, my soul, all of me on fire…without alchemy."

"Fu – Roy? What's going on?" she asked curiously before the more sensible part of her – which was a lot of her – could comment on his choice of lines again.

"Riza…" Roy repeated her name, but this time, he had a hand in his pocket. When he pulled it out, it had a tiny velvet box that clicked open with a simple flick of a finger. Riza had it half-figured out when he knelt on one knee before her, in the grass, the heart he had created still ablaze in the background, the fiery bird encircling it and leaving trails of twinkling light. He held out the open box, which bore a gold ring with the brightest, reddest ruby she had ever seen – possibly even redder than a red stone. The band was serrated so it looked like a dragon, or more appropriately, a ring of fire.

Her semi-suspicions were right.

"Major Riza Hawkeye…will you marry me?" he finally blurted out. He flashed a smile that was more imploring than smug, a far cry from his signature smirk.

At first, she didn't know what to say. Riza didn't know what to do – she felt rooted on the spot, as if time suddenly decided to stop, as if her world was suddenly flipped upside down…it was a curious sensation, something that she had only experienced very few times in the past…ever since truly committing herself to this man…

She beamed, reveling in that feeling yet keeping herself from turning into a giddy, lovesick teenager. Riza thought of marriage…binding herself forever to this man…becoming Mrs. Riza Mustang…it was a huge leap. But something inside her told her to take the leap. Besides, someone was always waiting to catch her if she fell…

"Yes," the major said softly. "Yes, I will marry you," she added, more loudly and more confident. Taking the ring from its minuscule velvet cushion, she slipped it onto her finger and gazed at it by the light of the slowly fading heart of fire.

Without thinking, Riza dropped to her knees beside Roy. Even before she opened her arms for him, he swept her close to him again, and they stood up together, still hanging on to each other, even as the last of Roy's fire show faded away and conceded to the night. She rested her head on his star-studded shoulder, and sensed his hand running through her hair before embracing her more tightly than before.

And not too far away, two military officers were seated on a bench behind a large, blossoming tree.

"Are they coming out yet?" whined Ed, leaning back and staring at the pure black sky. "People better not think we're dating here! They better think that we're doing a good job making sure the Fuhrer and his lady don't get shot while Mustang plops the question. And I want to go home."

"We hardly look like we're dating, anyway. I think we look very much like two guards. Love takes time," said Havoc airily. "You understand, do you? I mean, what about you and Winry Rockbell?"

The State Alchemist pouted, his cheeks feeling as though Roy performed his alchemy too close to them. "Whatever."

**THE END**

_Author's notes: I'm really bad at action/fight scenes and endings, forgive me. XD This is the first time I've actually written a fanfic this long. _


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